[I found trying to get pregnant to feel even more isolating and frustrating than the secrecy and fear that came with the first trimester of pregnancy. There is so little out there on trying to get pregnant. There are apps, and some forums, but there’s very little writing online from real people on how long or how hard it was for them to get pregnant. In the early stage of trying to get pregnant I found myself looking at women I knew and wanting to bombard them with overly personal questions. How long did you try? Was it hard? Did you hate it? What special trick did you do to finally make it work? Throughout the trying process I wrote a few posts about my feelings, and I’d like to share them with you this week. As much as the first trimester feels like a time of secrecy, trying for baby felt even worse for me. Here are some of my thoughts and feelings during our journey in a series I’m calling, Trying for Baby.]
I walk by the office this morning, look into the room where the desk currently sits with the morning light shining on its dark surface and I pause and think, I wonder when that will be replaced with a crib?
For the longest time I’ve been the voice in our marriage saying no to kids. Not yet. We’re not ready. We have too much debt. How could we do it? The person telling Adam to wait, while he was ready to take the leap, make it work. We wouldn’t be the first to figure it out, Ashley. For the longest time I could rationalize it all away. We have too much debt, to many bills, there’s no room in our budget and our life to factor in the cost of daycare, let alone all the other nonsense that comes with having children… but it was just a blockade I was building.
As the conversations turned into weeks, the weeks turning into months, and the months turning into a year, I began to find myself worn down. With our lives settled down into a calm cadence of nothingness, I found the part of me that wanted to try to have a baby speaking up a lot louder than the side of me that wanted to be reasonable, rational. My timeline became, next fall and then suddenly it was, next summer, and suddenly, maybe December? And just like that, How about now?
Hypothetical’s changed to frank discussions. A Sunday sitting in the office, the someday nursery, researching daycare centers and costs in our area. Calculating raises and promotions, interest rates and applying for loan consolidations. If we do X, Y, and Z there will be enough in the budget for daycare and then some. We’ll make it work.
I sat there in that room that’s always just been an office, thinking of how it could be sooner than I thought, a nursery. A nursery for a child we’d have together.
The reality of this leap feels like something I want to tell EVERYONE, CONSTANTLY, IN ALL CAPS and I don’t understand how people wait 12+ weeks to tell people they’re expecting. I know why people do it, and I will too if and when the time comes, but my god I can hardly keep from telling the lady at the checkout counter that I will start trying to have a baby IN A COUPLE WEEKS. How do people keep secrets? I think I need to learn…
I hope so badly that we’ll be one of those couples, lucky enough to say it happened on the first try. But the odds aren’t in our favor (books and the internet tell me it can take a healthy couple up to a year to conceive), so I’m trying to already prep myself for that. For letting this timeline I already have in my head loosen. To know that this isn’t a scientific formula, it’s nature, and it will take its damn time thankyouverymuch.
In the meantime I’ll buy the vitamins, try to cut back on caffeine, make a preconception apt with my doctor and think about someday…