Five things you probably shouldn’t say in front of the fertilely challenged.
1. “My husband can get me pregnant just by looking at me.”
2. “I’m so fertile I should do it for you.”
3. “I was made to have babies.”
4. “I’m going to get pregnant next month.”
5. “WHOOPS! Pregnant again!”
For those of you who have had to put a little more effort and a lot more of your heart and mind into making a baby you’re nodding your head. For those of you who just happen to be walking incubators let me tell you why being a difficult knock up sucks sweaty goat balls.
Clomid. If you like feeling like a hormonally out of control crazy lady with a heavy side of hot flashes and a dash of insane this is the medication for you. But if you like to feel like a normal human being, Clomid and you won’t be very good friends.
The excessive poking and prodding. “Hmm? Let’s shoot ink up her tubes and x-ray them! Nothing? Well, lets shoot her belly full of air and stick a little camera through her bellybutton, that shouldn’t be uncomfortable! Nothing still? Let’s spread her wide and take an enormous chunk out of her cervix out with a burning piece of wire! STILL NOTHING? Well then let’s put her on a pill that makes her feel like a hormonally out of control crazy lady with a heavy side of hot flashes and a dash of insanity. And, AND! while she’s taking the pill lets give her extra shots in her tender flesh and take her blood regularly to see what’s going on in there! Our own little infertile guinea pig! Hooray for science!”
Military scheduled sex. When you’re 16 “they” tell you that “You can get pregnant on any day of your period!” But when you’re a difficult knock up it’s really only a four minute window between the hours of 2:34 am and 2:38 am on the thirteenth day after the day before your period started compared to the month before it was supposed to end. All this leads to basal temperatures and mucous readings and ovulation test kits and scheduled sex. All of which are about as far from sexy as you can get.
Every month is a waiting game. Anyone who has tried to get pregnant knows the “signs of ovulation”. Anyone who has had to REALLY try to get pregnant knows that as soon as those signs are over and done with it’s a waiting game. You count down the hours to that first cramp, you may even take a few dozen pregnancy tests in anticipation. And if your period dares to be a day late? THE ANXIETY THAT COMES COULD KILL A SMALL PONY. If you’re not pregnant? It’s another thirteen day countdown to that four minute window.
Everyone else is pregnant. Yep, I’m looking at you. I have 27 friends who are either pregnant or just got done being pregnant in the last month. Horny little baby making buggers.
It took me three years of no birth control and six months on Clomid (along with all that other stuff) to get knocked up with the moosh. It became so routine that one night I even ran my to do list past Cody while he was doing what needed to be done. “Did you remember to record The Sopranos?” will go down in history as the least sexy thing ever said in our marriage.
Here I am, the moosh is almost three. No health insurance to speak of and none coming anytime soon. Do I feel guilty that my kids are going to be at least four years apart (minimum)? Of course, I’m a mom, I feel guilty, it’s in our job description. Do I even want another kid? Pregnancy isn’t exactly a cakewalk for me once it does happen. Do I just want another one because I can’t? If I were an easy knock up would I feel the same? I do know this, it’s not fair. You hear me? IT’S NOT FAIR. It’s not fair that baby making can’t be a spontaneous decision between my husband and me. It has to be a very well planned out and expensive decision among not only us, but by several doctors too. And I don’t even have it that bad. I didn’t ever have to go the route of IVF, sperm or egg donation. If I ever did have to go that far would I? Or would I stay grateful for my one little contribution to society asleep in the other room? the moosh is shortchanged on siblings, the husband is shortchanged on heirs. But how much is about them and how much is about me? It’s my uterus that has to go through the beating.
Now I’m rambling. See how flummoxed I am?
Kel asked back in my request for NaBloPoMo questions:
“…your August entry on “the difficult knock up” hit home… perhaps you could write more on that for those of us struggling with the same diagnoses, if you’re feeling serious / in the mood for sharing. It’s a bit scary sometimes and words from someone who has gone through this would be appreciated by many readers, I’m sure.”
Is this true? Does this put any of your souls to rest knowing you’re not the only one on the block with a stubborn reproductive system? I hope so. My brow is knitted, my shoulders are tense. Five days to the thirteenth day after the fourth day of my cycle beginning. Or something like that.
Hugs and sloppy kisses to my sisters with bunk lady parts.
Kerflop wrote about the taboo subject of our religion yesterday too. (we obviously both subscribe to the same brand of crazy.) She deserves an award for segueing from sacred undergarments to doing it on a trampoline in the same post.
I heart Kerflop.