Well, I guess this is the post you’ve all been waiting for. It’s the post I’ve been waiting to write, actually. It’s the one wherein I tell you that after six attempts and one failed pregnancy, I am still not pregnant, and it’s the one where I announce, Ross and Rachel style, that I am now officially “on a break.”
When I started this journey last January, charting and getting acquainted with the rhythms of my body, I was convinced that it would take no time at all once the inseminations began. Why wouldn’t I think that? Except for a brief time during elementary and early middle school, during which I actually came close to failing the fourth grade, I have always been an over-achiever. I “get” things quickly. Pregnancy, to me, would not be an exception. I remember reading about women who had been trying for months, who were on all sorts of drugs and had encountered all sorts of horrendous problems, and I just knew I was not going to be one of those women. Now, almost eight months, three Clomid prescriptions, six inseminations, and one miscarriage later, I realize that the Universe probably got a good laugh out of my attitude. What’s more important is what I’ve gotten out of it.
I’d love to say I’m more patient now than when I started, but that would be a lie, and there are already enough lies on the Internet as it is. What I am is more aware–of time, of my own humanity, of the immensity of my support system, and of the delicate balance that is life. This is not the end of my quest to conceive and birth a child; it’s merely a drop in the bucket, and my self-inflicted break will be an opportunity to regroup, renew, and refocus my energy…not to mention a chance to lose these five pounds I’ve gained, rediscover my muscles, work on new yoga postures, and enjoy the spirit (and spirits!) of Christmas.
In the meantime, I’m paying my doctor a very lengthy visit. It’s time for the usual tests and check-ups, but I want the works–if something isn’t working properly I want it fixed. If you’ve been in my shoes and you think there’s a test I should have or a question I should ask my doctor, do let me know.
And so you know, I’m fine. Really. Fine and dandy. I’ve already passed the lowest point–the point at which I was cursing the cramps that shook me wide awake at one in the morning, the point at which I could not shake the thought that had I not lost the pregnancy in July I’d be six months pregnant by now–and now I’m looking forward. I’m going to be SO happy for Emilin and Jen in a few months, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Calliope and Amanda & T and Bri, and I have no doubt that someday we’ll all be exchanging advice and telling stories about our kids on these very blogs.
Thanks for the support, friends. Now somebody make me a Cosmopolitan–I’m WAY behind.