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When Green Doesn't Mean 'Go'

The day I got married coincided perfectly with me taking my last birth control pill. When we got back from our honeymoon, I installed a pregnancy app on my phone to track my cycle. I was on the pill for, like, 100 years and wasn't sure what to expect. It turns out I have a pretty normal 28ish-day cycle. I liked how the app told us when to do it and I was always like, "It's green you know what that means ..." followed by a super sexy eyebrow wiggle.

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One afternoon, after being prompted by the app, I took an early pregnancy test. When it was positive, I was pretty shocked. We thought we had more time, we thought it would take us a year or something. I immediately—and begrudgingly—abandoned all my vices. It was really hard; I kept saying I felt like I was in court-mandated rehab. But when we lost the baby, of course I was wracked with guilt, thinking it was the tequila from the week before or the wine I'd had with dinner or the chemicals in my gel nails.

Today, for the first time since the miscarriage, I entered my data. The green squares on the calendar are so tempting to me, which surprised me with some happy emotions. I have been struggling with my thoughts of when we will be ready to try again, if I even want to try again. I've told my husband repeatedly that I am scared, and he completely understands and has admitted he has his own fears. He says we can wait as long as I want, but I'm old and I don't want to wait too long. However, having a miscarriage that lasted over two months has somewhat complicated the equation for me.

I have been struggling with my thoughts of when we will be ready to try again, if I even want to try again.

I didn't think I would have my period for a few more weeks and thought I would have more time to detox and get my mind and body ready to try again. I had made the decision not to try until I went through at least one cycle. I wanted time to get drunk, eat all the things you can't eat when you're pregnant, see my friends and try to get back to my old self again. I also feel like my husband and I need to reconnect—we were only married for three months before I got pregnant and miscarried. Oh and by the way, during those three months we also decided to move back to Colorado from California for the purpose of starting a family, interviewed for jobs, quit our jobs, worked our last two weeks while packing up everything for the move and lived in general mayhem during the majority of that time.

Through all of this he's been my rock, and through his loving and compassionate behavior during the miscarriage, he has inadvertently impressed upon me the solemnity of our wedding vows, through sickness and in health. Those vows are no joke, people: When shit gets real, it gets real. But I want to be his happy wife again, not the sad pile of tears I have become. I want our old life back before we try to make a new one, even if it's just for a couple of weeks. So although we've gotten the green light, I'm not ready to go.

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My therapist asked me yesterday if I would describe myself as a perfectionist and I was so surprised by the question, I actually laughed out loud. Me? A perfectionist? My husband would die, he's a textbook perfectionist. His attention to detail is INTENSE. I, on the other hand, live on the sloppy half-finished side of life. I then jokingly responded to the therapist, "Do you think I'm a perfectionist?" She looked at me in the way therapists do sometimes, you know what I mean if you've ever been or seen one on TV, giving you the ol' quiet introspective eye, before calmly giving you examples from things you've said.

One of the things was how I kept talking about was how I want to be totally detoxed and perfectly cleansed before we tried again. So even though I keep saying I know logically there was nothing I did that caused the miscarriage, I guess I still feel like it was my fault and this time around I want no room for doubt—even though many women drink and smoke in early pregnancy (when they don't know they are preggo) and have healthy babies.

I am feeling ready to try again … but not next week, because I have a bunch of ladies' nights scheduled, I want to get one more gel manicure, I want to brighten up my highlights, I want to use a wedding gift that is for hot springs and massages. I want to take hot baths and be intimate with my husband just for the sake of intimacy. I want to eat sushi and prosciutto and runny eggs and drink martinis secure in knowledge that it's my last hurrah for awhile, and this time it won't feel like I had to give it all up overnight.

Getting pregnant, losing babies and having children in general, puts women in a place where we have no control. I have to let it go and que será, sera it, but before I do that, I'm controlling my drinks and my nails and consumption of raw and undercooked meats and seafood by having all of it, with a side of prenatal vitamins.

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