As we prepare for another cycle of watching and waiting and spending money like it’s going out of style, I feel like I need to have a little chat with myself.
Getting pregnant has always seemed so romantic to me. You’re in a relationship with someone you love so much, and you decide together that you want to grow the love exponentially by starting a family. It’s fraught with passion, excitement, commitment, love, and respect.
Let’s face it, though—there’s nothing intimate about fertility clinics and sperm banks. It’s frozen vials and plastic tubes. It’s spreading your legs for perfect strangers on a regular basis. It’s fluorescent light, cold ultrasound wands and, “Ok, you can put your pants back on now.”
Still though, the sentiment is there. Somewhere. Buried beneath frustration and anxiety, fear, and guilt there is still the love—the excitement—the passion. It’s just so easy to overlook it in the midst of the heartbreak that comes with 50 day cycles, 30 days of bleeding, negative HPTs and OPKs, and needle pricks.
Last Fall, I was a disaster. I picked fights with Catch constantly. She kept herself guarded (partly because my moods were so volatile). I felt isolated because she was so guarded. I cried, I yelled, and I went through emotions faster than a dealer shuffles cards. There was so much distress and so little happiness.
I’m not doing that to myself or Catch again. Taking a few months off—and getting all of that clomid out of my system—has left me to remember how it feels to not be a crazy bitch. Or at least no more of a crazy bitch than usual.
Trying to get pregnant is exciting—despite the tubes and vials and fluorescent lights. All of the things from paragraph 2 still apply now. I will not let these fertility issues take that away from me.
This time will be different. I will check my hormones at the door. I will make an effort to communicate more effectively with my wife and not expect her to be psychic. No doubt I will feel all of the feels that come along with this magic carpet ride, but I will not allow myself to dwell. I will distract myself with the people and things that I love. Workouts will ease frustration. Dogs will be walked in the sunshine. Books will be listened to in traffic. Pictures will be taken. Words will be written.
Most importantly, I will channel all of the passion, excitement, commitment, love and respect that I share with my wife. One way or another, sometime between now and whenever it happens, we will start our family. It will be the most romantic thing we’ve ever done together.