Searching through my e-mail inbox for specific communications with my gyno, I stumbled upon the following e-mail:
Dear Dr. XXXXXX,
I know that it can take a year for healthy couples to conceive, but I'm getting very worried that there's something wrong with my husband and me. It seems like everyone we know gets pregnant after one or two tries and that if it hasn't happened by now, there's some problem. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get my period in a few days, so we'll be on our 8th cycle.
Are there any tests we can do before the 12 month mark to rule out easily fixable problems, or do we have to wait until then to do anything? Is there any explanation that can account for why this is taking so long?
Ignore the tone of slight petulance and the laughable assumption that eight months is a hideously long time to try to conceive. I was young and stupid, what can I say. In fact, ignore most of this e-mail except for two things. 1) "I'm pretty sure I'm going to get my period in a few days, so we'll be on our 8th cycle," and 2) the date it was sent: Monday, October 12. One week to the day before I saw my first positive pregnancy test.
If you held a gun to my head right now and asked me to tell you my innermost thoughts on the state of my uterus, I'd...well, I'd think you have a freakishly intense interest in my fertility and I'd also recommend your gun license be taken away. But I'd say, "Pregnant."
Which I've thought before. And haven't been pregnant.
And if you'd held the gun to my head last night, I would have said, "Not Pregnant." Which, as the above evidence shows, I've also thought before. And have been pregnant.
All of which proves that I am once again a passenger on the amazing One Week Wait Loop-de-Loop. I've ridden this beast so many times I'm quite frankly sick of it. And yet I keep getting on. Doing the boob mash (a little tender, but no more than PMS normal). Scanning my complexion (totally normal, not surprisingly clear, not notably broken out). Analyzing my appetite (strong, like it always is before AF). I thought that experiencing pregnancy would make this part easier, but each month it's the same stupid guessing game. Roller coasters and How Many Candies in The Jar-- my life has become a third-rate Carnival, right down to the chintzy Hall of Mirrors. Look in this mirror, and a lack of cramps at 7 dpo becomes a positive sign! Look in this mirror, and it's AF's latest disguise!
I've got a testing date in mind. It's far enough out that reaching it will make the test a formality. I don't expect to get there. I'm stocked with enough red raspberry leaf tea for the next ten cycles and I just ordered a pair of expensive skinny jeans from Gilt Groupe on the off chance that Murphy has a say in this.
And back in line for the Cyclone I go.
Reinvention of a blog
6 months ago