I like to do
everything right. I'm not particularly successful at that, which make me feel upset and
like a failure far too often. I'm working on it in therapy, but still, the
force to try to do things right is strong in this one. I feel like I did
everything right this week as far as baby-making goes. Even though I am trying
to remain calm and make this baby in an organic fashion, I can't resist my
fertility app. My green squares were up and I am one of those women that
experiences mittelschmerz (when you get a pain in your side that indicates
ovulation), so just to be sure, I took an ovulation test and got a positive result.
Seems like my lady bits are in working order so I put my husband to work.
I know I'm not the
first person to think baby-making sex ain't all that sexy; there's a certain
amount of pressure that can take the natural joy out of love making. Also, your
husband having a head cold can really take the romance out, but I wanted to make
sure we took advantage of my fertile window so even though he wasn't feeling
his best, we did our best to make the most of it. So now ... we wait. Sounds
simple, right? Just go on about your business as though everything is normal,
except don't drink booze or take medications, just in case.
And sometimes, I can recognize that when something small makes me incredibly anxious, it's not about the small thing—it's tapping into a larger well of past trauma.
Even with all my yoga
and therapy and writing, I must confess, I'm not totally relaxed. I'm
hoping all went well and my husband's swimmers are making their way to where
they are supposed to be, and I'm trying to not think about it too much, but
it's really hard. The specter of the miscarriage still looms over my thoughts,
but in spite of that I still find myself hopeful and imagining what our kid
might be like.
The other night I saw
a college-age girl on a late night talk show, she had lightly tanned skin and a
crazy head of curly hair, and I thought she looked like she could be our
daughter, all grown up. I got such a thrill from the thought; I even called my
husband to come look at her. "Doesn't she look like she could be our
daughter???" He agreed and I felt inexplicably happy.
That's the good side; the
bad side is I get to thinking, what if we can't get pregnant? What if we
do get pregnant and I miscarry again? Will we keep trying? Will we adopt?
Do I want to adopt? I pester my husband with these thoughts, and he keeps
saying, "We won't know until we know." It's not fair—he's not doing any yoga
or therapy, and he's a sea of calm. Meanwhile, despite my decaf lattes, I'm feeling
jittery. Although I think I'm doing everything right in a physical sense—vitamins, yoga, going to the gym, eating organic meats and produce, etc.—my mind
still ain't totally right. It's better than it was, I still get panicky, but sometimes,
I can manage the thoughts with a balance pose and a few breaths. Sometimes, I
can tell myself, hey, these are just your thoughts, they are not YOU. And
sometimes, I can recognize that when something small makes me incredibly
anxious, it's not about the small thing—it's tapping into a larger well of past
Going forward this
week, I'm going to try to stay healthy and busy, and in the words of my yoga
teacher, be gentle and sweet to myself. That means that when I get nervous and
feel like I'm not calm enough, I'll try not to get mad at myself for not getting
calm "right." And I won't be a failure if I do beat myself up for not getting things right. Trying to make a new life has
surprisingly been helping me learn more about my own life, helping me to better
understand myself and what makes me tick like a crazy time bomb. I am hopeful that all of this introspection
will help prepare me to be a mother—that is, if we got the timing right.