Step Right Up and Try Your Luck; or, Exhuming the Inbox

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?

Thanks,
Secret Sloper

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.

Hot Baths, Cold Water; or, Another Two Week Wait

I'm back from the wilds of Maine! I watched my youngest sister graduate, ovulated, tricked Lawyer Guy into pressure-free sex, and ate a lot of excellent locally grown/caught food. Not in that order.

I ovulated either CD 20 or 21, right on schedule. And the sex was well timed and well spaced out, not that I know what either of those things mean anymore. I so want this to be it. I so want to be reading a positive pee stick two weeks from today. I tell myself every two week wait that this won't be the month and that I've just got to keep trying, but inside I'm thinking, "Why not? It happened once, why can't it happen again?" And then another voice answers with, "Yeah, but it hasn't happened ten times more than it has, so why would this month be different?"

It gets pretty crowded in my head during the two week wait.

After the CBEFM had confirmed ovulation, on the last day of the trip, Lawyer Guy and I took a bath together. It's something we like to do on vacation, but thanks to my zealous protection of his sperm and all things related to them, we haven't done so in 18 months. He was tired from the long drive and from days spent with my family (whom he loves but who also drive him crazy) and I thought a bath would relax him. It did.

But of course, immediately afterward the wheels in my mind started turning. "Hot baths can decrease fertility. It can take three months for sperm counts to replenish. We're going to the RE in three months. We could have just killed all our chances at conceiving until September. If it doesn't happen this month, we're screwed." And on and on and on.

By this point, I've pretty much turned the possible regrets off. My husband needed to relax and do something with me that was not about making babies. The bath wasn't blisteringly hot or anything, so I'm sure it will be fine. And even if it's not, it's only two cycles we've been set back. Plus, who the hell knows what our problems are anyway?

But I have come to the conclusion that if this cycle doesn't work out we'll be visiting the RE in late August/September. Some days that terrifies me. Other days it feels inevitable.

Finally: thanks for your feedback on the letter to Clueless. I'm going to send it tomorrow and I'm not going to await or expect a response. Some of you mentioned wanting to "plagiarize" the letter in e-mails to your own friends or family. As long as you use proper MLA citation, that's fine. Just kidding. Anything in there that speaks to you or communicates your feelings is open and available for you to use.

The Games We Play; or, Positive Bullsh!t

Today's CD 1 so it's time to play everybody's favorite game, "How Much Positive Bullshit Can Sloper Come Up With To Make Herself Not Cry." Last month I sadly lost-- too many cycles out of the game left me rusty and unprepared. But with some serious training over the past 34 days, I'm proud to report that I'm in better form than ever and cleaning up the field with ease.

Without further ado, I present: The Positive Bullshit

1. "I didn't want a December baby anyway. Sharing your birthday month with Christmas (and your father, cousin, and aunt) would really suck." +1 point

2. "Everyone else I know had a late 2009 or is having a 2010 baby: 2011 belongs to me! Suck on that, bitches!" +5 points

3. "I'm glad I'll get pregnant with the sticky baby after I turn 30. 29 was a shittastic year, so 30 will obviously be the bomb." + 3 points

4. "Now I can take my orals and teach all of Fall '10 without worrying about the baby coming early." + 1 point

5. "Back in January, I secretly thought to myself that I would have a January baby." + 10 points (if it happens); - 5 points (if it doesn't)

I admit that "owning" 2011 among my family members is the strongest piece of Positive Bullshit, which makes me petty and greedy, but I don't care. They can all suck a big turd and send me giant presents when I give birth, because I'm clearly taking on all the fertility troubles allotted to this family so they can breeze through and pop out easy baby after easy baby. Presents, dammit. Presents!

In the meantime, this Easter will consist of church with some of my sisters, followed by brunch and several huge Bloody Marys, rather than putting together an Easter basket for my husband (who LOVES them in a way that his Jewish ancestors would likely not appreciate) and slipping a positive pee stick among the cellophane grass. I know, cute right? The little bunny holding the hpt? The jelly-bean filled plastic eggs announcing our little Easter egg?

Darn it, where's that Positive Bullshit again?