Picture this… Valentine’s Day, a walk together chatting about hopes and dreams, a lovely meal at home with red roses on the table. Excitement building as we find out whether we’ve conceived…
It’s our first month of trying to conceive and I’ve had all sorts of signs and symptoms. I’m four days ‘late’ and have been good about ‘waiting to wee‘. It just turned out that Valentine’s Day was at a good point and gave me the strength to hold out…
So off I go to pee on a stick, heart all a flutter and pretty scared (either way result). Shouting downstairs “start the 3 minute timer”… I bring it down. This little plastic stick of chemicals on which our life may now turn upside down…
I can’t look, we look together… sure of what it will say…
one line only
Uh? But? What?
I can’t help it, the tears start to flow.
Is the test wrong? Why haven’t I got my period if it’s negative? I don’t understand?
Hubby is very supportive and holds me through the confusion. A negative result was totally not expected. His pragmatic cool remains and he points out many things that could be wrong with the test, and also consoles me that it’s not the end of the world (I really hate that phrase). We can try again next month.
I feel so stupid for reading into all the signs and getting my hopes up. Why did I think that we would be lucky enough to fall pregnant first time around?
Just to feel like we are doing something we head out to Tesco and pick up another pair of tests. I’ll redo them in the morning as most people suggest.
At this point I’m actually just desperate to get my period and move on to the next cycle. How mean is my body to give a negative result and be late so we can’t get on with trying again?
Needless to say I feel very much like Valentine’s Day is ruined, I also didn’t sleep very well and woke up feeling dreadful.
With a sinking feeling I pick up the tests and head to the bathroom…
My period has arrived. The finality sets in and actually carries a sense of release. Knowing either way is so much better than the uncertainty.
So now I start to worry, what did I do that could have affected the outcome? Did I do too much exercise, or not enough? Did we have sex on the wrong days? Am I even ovulating? Did 19 years on the pill break me? Do I have polycystic ovaries (my mum did)? Did I eat enough greens?
Luckily I had a break from worrying as I had to go and put on a brave face. My sister has broken her arm (very badly) and needs some tlc and house help. So hubby escapes the red week maelstrom and I am distracted to the point where I can’t ruminate on it. All good.
The time apart helps us to remember what we love about each other and this month is off to a good start. But it’s different this time around. The sex is more about enjoying each other rather than having to ‘do the deed’. My head is just in a completely different place and I’m not sure whether it’s good or bad or neither!
I feel like hopes and dreams are not worth entertaining. If you don’t dream and make plans they can’t be cruelly dashed.
It sounds very sad but pretty much everything hinges on the uncertainty of the biology. I don’t know what to aim for at work or at home. Do we save for the extension or enjoy a much needed holiday? Do I throw my efforts behind my work with others or my more ‘mum friendly’ money making endeavours?
I’m so tired right now that I want to give myself the time and space to heal and be healthy. But I also feel that I should be working as much as possible to get in as much money as possible before anything happens. But if I work myself to the bone then the chances of conceiving are much decreased.
All these questions come with the inevitable internet trawing for answers, reading other people’s blogs, filling my head with doubt and uncertainty. Perhaps it’s a sign I’m not supposed to be a mum? Perhaps I was right all those years to say I didn’t want children? Perhaps I made my bed and now have to lie in it… I’m not allowed to change my mind!?
All of this sets me adrift in a disconnected sea of confusion. I don’t like being like this. It reminds me of dark places in my not distant enough past and I don’t want to slide down that slope again.
I need purpose, drive and vision. I want to dream but don’t dare.