Recently Mr. J and I celebrated 3 years of marriage. Which don’t get me wrong is an amazing accomplishment to celebrate but it is also a reminder for me that it has been 3 years since we have been trying to have a baby. Wait, let me back that up for a minute, we had a baby. We had Mia, but unfortunately, we couldn’t bring her home and enjoy her as long as we would have liked to. So, it has been 3 years since Mr. J and I have been trying to have a baby we could take home. It took us two years to conceive Mia only to learn that after all our hard work we would never get to bring her home let alone watch her grow. Another disappointment after this confusing journey of trying to conceive.
It feels so stupid to think about now but I have spent most of my adult life trying to prevent having babies to find out that maybe I may never get to have my own babies. I never in a million years thought this would be so difficult. The women in my family appear to have babies effortlessly. With many of those babies being “surprises.” Why would I be any different? After a year of what I thought was “trying” I decided to speak to my doctor but having a baby. Only to find out that I wasn’t really “trying.” I soon learned that not preventing a baby isn’t enough. It’s all about basal body temperature charts, testing for ovulation, and timing coitus (for all you Big Bang Theory fans). Regardless, Mr. J and I went through a few tests to see why we haven’t been able to conceive. After thousands of dollars of testing that are NOT covered by health insurance, we found out we have “unexplained infertility.” What does that even mean? Basically, there’s nothing wrong with either one of us and there’s no reason why we should be able to have a baby. So that’s good news, right? Yes, and no. The problem with not knowing what the problem is that there’s no solution. Having run out of money Mr. J and I decided to break from infertility appointments before we start treatment. That’s when we conceived Mia.
Now here we are again, trying to conceive after being given the ok from my doctor. I find myself living in two-week intervals. The first two weeks I am waiting to test for ovulation and timing coitus with Mr. J. I am obsessed with my fertility app on my phone and comparing pee sticks. The next two weeks are charting any possible symptoms of pregnancy and waiting to test. In my opinion, the waiting and not being able to actively do anything is the hardest part of the cycle. This is what my doctors consider “trying” to conceive. At first, it’s fun but after a few months, having timed coitus becomes a job. This is when my doctor told me to relax or go on vacation. Wait, what!? I did that for a year, and you told me we weren’t really “trying.”
So here I am completely consumed with baby thoughts, timed coitus, and driving myself and Mr. J crazy. What happens if we can never have our own babies? Can we even afford infertility treatments? How long till we start pursuing other options? Any mamas out there have any advice?
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