I went back into therapy today. My new therapist seems lovely, even if we spent much of our first session chatting about my family history of anxiety disorders (it's quite extensive) and my own history of panic attacks, general anxiety disorder, and occasional bouts of depression. I feel good knowing that I'm doing something to get my mind back on track and my emotions under control. I also feel good that she's an LCSW rather than an MD-- I really don't want to go back on anti-anxiety meds when there's a chance I could become pregnant.
Things are also going well with my husband and me (I have now dubbed him Mr. Lawyer for the purposes of this blog). We've taken a step back from sex for the past week because he is spooked and worried ever since losing his erection last week. Mr. Lawyer and I have been having "fun" in non-baby-making ways to get back into enjoying sex rather than thinking of it as a chore.
Ultimately, I feel like we're taking care of necessary business right now. We can't make a baby the way that I thought we could. Meaning, we can't control this. I can't make it happen faster by reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility or obsessively analyzing my cervical fluid. Maybe there's a chance that I'd conceive marginally faster that way, but the toll it takes on my sanity, Mr. Lawyer's emotions, and the health of our marriage is not worth it.
My therapist told me I'm feeling the emotions and suffering the reactions common to couples going through infertility testing. And this is only after 4 months. I need to reset the clock, throw out the calendars, rethink this process. I need to relax.
Right now, I'm working on forgiving myself and my husband for not conceiving yet. A sex break isn't what I wanted, but maybe it's what we needed.
Let's see where we are six months from now.