Well, I'm feeling down so here I am. As usual, I only seem to write when I'm upset or depressed. I guess it's a good sign that I haven't posted an entry in a while then.
I feel like a fool. I shouldn't, though, because my brain likes to believe that my body is like everyone else. But it's not. That's why I started this blog in the first place. It was supposed to be a place to vent my frustrations about my body and my inability to do what so many other women do: get pregnant.
If you know me, you're thinking, "But you DO have a daughter!" And you're right. She took the long way around, but we were finally fortunate enough to have her. So now that she's getting older, I have opened up slowly to the idea of having another child. Having your first child is kind of like bungee jumping. Sounds fun, but you can't really be sure what it feels like until you do it. Having a second child takes much more thought (in my opinion) but you know EXACTLY what you're in for. There's a lot of wonderful moments and then there's the moments you want to run away, preferably to Sandals or some other adult-only resort.
So after some thought, some consideration, and some reconsideration, we figured that it was a good time to "try." We tried the "non-not-trying" approach for a while, but it didn't work. I'm sure some frustrated woman who has the propensity for killing her kids would have had five by now, but my body doesn't work like that. At least I didn't think it did.
My doctor suggested I start charting my cycles. I didn't want to TRY because that takes too much effort. I know some previous times how easy it is to become obsessed and want a baby too bad.
"I don't want to think about it. I want it just to happen," I said to my doctor. Looking back on it, he probably was wondering why I thought he's a miracle worker.
"I think you're right," he said. "Sometimes you shouldn't think about it too much."
I agreed. We smiled. All would be fine in the world...except the fact that we were both trying to bullshit the universe.
The easiest way for him to be able to tell what's happening with my body without me doing too much is to chart. Basically, you shove a thermometer in your mouth when you first wake up. You record your temperature and when it rises and stays elevated, you know you've ovulated. I yawned at the thought of it. Taking a minute out of every day sounded like work. However, I bought a thermometer for $8.99 (which was money I could have spent on Doritos) and began charting. I discovered an online service where you enter the temps and it "charts" for you. So I charted and charted, all the while scoffing at my own dysfunction. Then, all of a sudden, it said I had ovulated a few days before. What? My body was/is working? How could that be?
It took me a few days to believe it. A few days after that, the excitment started to slowly creep in. I tried to shoo it away, but finally I gave in. Then I did what I know a lot of women who are trying to get pregnant do: I believed in myself and what my body could do.
It's funny how something that you're not exactly wanting at the moment could become something you so badly want in such a short time. I think it's because when you can't have it, you want it. Especially when a lot of other people get it without much effort.
So after two weeks of thinking I could be pregnant, then believing with almost 100% certainty, then even feeling pregnant, I got my blood work results back today. Negative. BFN. Big. Fat. Negative. (BFN is a popular, although not liked, abbreviation in the trying-to-conceive community.) The pessimist in me wasn't surprised, but the part of me who wanted to believe felt let down. And stupid. I am happy with the way things are now. In fact, there's a part of me that believes it's actually better if I don't have a baby yet.
I just have to rememeber that next time. That's if I allow myself to fall into the trap again. Who knew it would be so easy to fall?