My 1 year anniversary is coming up in March. Not my wedding anniversary (we're going on 3 years) or a grad school anniversary (this is my 4th year) or an apartment anniversary (we've been in Park Slope almost 2). Nope, I'm gearing up for my 1 year anniversary of trying to conceive a child.
First year TTC anniversaries are momentous things. They usually mean a full complement of blood work and semen analysis and a visit to the friendly neighborhood RE. But mine won't. Mine will most likely mean another pee stick in the fertility monitor, another temp charted on my fertility software, another night of hoping this one works and this one sticks. And another blog post (that one I can guarantee).
Because I won't have been trying to have a baby for 12 months. I won't be on my 9th cycle of fucking with purpose. I'll be on my second month, second cycle. A total newbie!
Miscarriages restart the clock. After all, the process worked (well, it didn't really if the goal was a child in my arms rather than a vial full of "products of human conception" in a lab somewhere, but you know what I mean). Pregnancy #1 was achieved. #2 is a different beast.
Most of the time, this feels like a good thing. I'm glad to let go of the accumulated disappointment and despair of March-December 2009. I'm glad to be starting over, a nice low number on the calendar and plenty of reason for optismism. It'll take 3 months, right? Sure, why not. It does for other people.
Other times I think--what if? What if it takes a full year? What if it takes 9 months and then I lose that one, too? And suddenly, I'm seeing second anniversaries, third anniversaries. Suddenly, I'm seeing how couples wind up waiting two or more years before trying any treatments, something I swore once upon a time I would never do.
But most of the time I don't think about the what ifs. And it's not just because they'll fuck with your head.
I'm new to this whole thing, remember? I'm counting on beginner's luck.
Reinvention of a blog
6 months ago