Trying to Conceive

At the end of the first week, I knew I wanted to write a blog about my pregnancy. My mind had already been blown by facts about the placenta, breastfeeding, and the everlasting changes to my DNA. I was amazed that despite having had pregnant sisters (twice each) and a number of pregnant friends, there was SO MUCH I did not know. And of course not, why would I want to know about how common pregnancy hemorrhoids are? 

I want to write about my experience to share with anyone interested in learning more about pregnancy, and maybe for other mothers-to-be who want to share experiences. To be clear, this isn’t a guide to pregnancy or a “what to expect”, this is my experience of pregnancy. Pregnancy is very personal and people’s experiences vary greatly. I can only speak for myself. 

Trying to Conceive

It’s very important to me to talk about the beginning, trying to conceive (TTC). That’s the phrase widely used for the time when a heterosexual couple has decided to have a baby and want to conceive through P & V intercourse. Often I see sonograms and baby announcements that seem to pop out of nowhere, but rarely has anyone shared their stories about trying to conceive. I didn’t expect the emotional pressures around it, or to get as disappointed or sad as I did each time my period came.

When Steve and I decided to start TTC, we were not going to be scientific about it. It was exciting, and scary! “Let’s just see what happens, and in 6 months we can start to get more specific if we need to,” Steve said. He should have known better. First of all, once I decide I want something I can be very impatient, and secondly, I also have been known to worry (Virgo?). 

Three months in, I was taking my basal body temperature every morning - this is basically your resting temperature. You have to take your temperature with a very accurate thermometer right after waking, no getting up first or taking a sip of water. So basically, every morning for a month baby making was the first thing on my mind. The idea is that a spike in temperature suggests ovulation. However, after a month of taking the readings and not noticing much difference, I read up on the science that has tended to show this is not actually a super useful tool in TTC. So I looked at the other options that spurred better results: ovulation predictor kits (OPK) and mucus examination. OPKs are little test strips you dip in your urine during your cycle, a positive result will occur when your luteinizing hormone spikes, this suggests ovulation will happen within 24-48 hours. Thus more useful because you can jump right to “it”, and have a good chance. The mucus examination is a daily routine of putting your finger inside your vagina, towards your cervix, and examining the consistency of mucus you pull out. A raw egg-whites like consistency means you’re likely ovulating, this is also the best consistency for carrying sperm up the vagina in through the cervix. I half-heartedly tried the cervical mucus examination methods. I finally purchased an OPK predictor kit after about 6 periods.

For me, every period was disappointment. It wasn’t that I would be terribly upset if we couldn’t conceive this way. Having “my own” wasn’t the ultimate goal for me. It was just the stress of not knowing and not being in control. Sometimes my period would be a week late according to my tracking app. I would wonder if I’m pregnant, take a test, and be disappointed and more often than not my period would show up within two days. Of course it would! Once I was 9 days late while visiting my family in Georgia. I was feeling fat and my mom asked me, within 20 minutes of me arriving, “so, you’re not pregnant are you?” I had taken a test before my trip, but I thought to myself maybe it had been too soon to pick up on HCG levels (that’s the hormone produced by the placenta, that pregnancy tests look for). I reflected and thought about how my boobs had felt more sore than usual, I was tired, and I was feeling really bloated. The hardest thing is that the early signs of pregnancy are the same as signs of getting your period! After a private discussion with my sister, and asking her how she knew when she was pregnant, we decided to drive to Walmart so I could take a test. I took the test in the bathroom at Walmart so I didn’t have to do it at my Grandpa’s house. It felt weird, like I was doing something sneaky, almost like being a teenager again. Also a Walmart bathroom was not really where I envisioned receiving the news that I was pregnant! It was negative. I was just period bloated, not pregnancy bloated. Did you ever have a crush in high school and think they liked you back? And then you find out they never really liked you? And it kind of sucks and feels like a kick to the gut. That’s what it was like for me. I realized that none of my pregnant friends or sisters had ever talked about the TTC phase. In fact both of my sister’s first pregnancies were a bit of a surprise to them. Though at the time of their firsts they were both almost 9 years younger than I am now. 

I wasn’t telling many people that we were TTC. I never told my parents. My mom would always ask me if I was pregnant yet, which wasn’t the same as her asking if we were thinking/starting/planning to have kids. So I always just said, no I’m not pregnant. I didn’t want to over excite her. I hid it from people because I was anxious about the possible external expectation that it would happen quickly, and that if it didn’t happen people would know we weren’t having success. Also since a lot of my close friends weren’t in the place where they’re considering having kids, I didn’t want to “other” myself or bring up something that wasn’t interesting or understandable. We live in a community house with 4 roommates. We mentioned to them that we were thinking about having a baby before we started TTC. However, I hadn’t considered opening up and sharing that we had kicked off the process. I started to open up more to my closest friends when I realized how disappointing, sad, sucky, and frustrating it was each time my period came. It was almost a shaming feeling for wanting something so badly. I even started to cry about it! And then I’d be annoyed at myself for being so upset, especially when I’ve read about how it can take a year for “healthy” couples to conceive. Why did I think my experience would be any different? 

I remember telling Steve each time my period came and he’d just shrug and say “that’s nice dear.” He really had no idea it was upsetting for me. After a while I had to ask him for a more empathetic response. I explained how I really felt each time it came, that I had cried, and that what I wanted was a hug and a “that sucks.” He acknowledged my feelings and from then on was always the comfort I needed when I got my period. 

I wish more people would talk about it. That I could have talked to someone who also knew the anguish and disappointment each time the period came. But it’s hard to reach out looking for that from friends, especially when I felt like the only moms I knew were social media friends, or in England. That’s why I wanted to share this. I want anyone to call me if they’re TTC and getting frustrated with the wait. I’ll just listen. I have no advice. I’ve been there too. And yes, it sucks.

Every period was just another setback to our timeline. As I mentioned, I can be impatient. I started to notice that my period tracking apps were having trouble accurately predicting my ovulation. I was having irregular periods; 45, 38, 33, 31 days. By the time my period would come, I’d type it into the app and the date of predicted ovulation for that month would change to match up. Generally when TTC it’s advised have sex every other day during the 5 day ovulation window (3 days before and 1 day after). The egg lasts up to two days, sperm can live inside the vagina for up to 5 days. Part of me thought that we just weren’t hitting the right days. 

When I looked back though, I noticed that sex (which I was also tracking in the app) did overlap with ovulation, even when the timetable shifted around. Queue fear I was not actually ovulating. I reached out to my OBGYN to ask advice on how best to use the OPK testing strips I had purchased. Typically a period is 28 days and will tell you to start testing 12-14 days after the first day of your last period. But when your period is all over the place, it’s hard to know. He called me into the office. I’ve met with this doctor numerous times, he’s a very practical straightforward kind of guy, no small talk. I remember the time years ago when we first met he asked if I was thinking of having kids in the next year, I said no, and yet he proceeded to tell me all the things I should do to get pregnant, like exercise regularly and take folic acid. I don’t know why I never switched doctor. When I went to see him, I had recently taken a pregnancy test, so I knew the sore breasts, and bloated feeling meant I was about to get my period. Because of my irregular, long cycles, he suggested I start using the OPK testing strips after 16 days into my next cycle. Once I have a positive on my home OPK I would schedule a blood test at the lab 10 days later. That test would then confirm whether or not I did indeed ovulate. And we can go from there. Since I have irregular periods, I have fewer in a year than a “typical” woman. The medical profession will tell women my age to come for sub-fertility tests (“we don’t use the phrase ‘infertility’ anymore, it’s not accurate,” said the OBGYN with no further explanation*) after 10 months, but since I have fewer periods per year, I should wait 12 months. Great. I thought. I hate waiting. I went home and drank wine on the porch with my best friend and vented about the process and how frustrated I was that it might not happen for another year. She asked me what she could do to help me feel better, help take my mind off it, suggested a spa day. Best friends are the best. 

Two days later, day 39 of my cycle, I impatiently took a test. I knew the negative one I had was a little early in the cycle, and I was tired of not knowing for sure. I left it on the counter as I started the process to home-dye my hair pink, it was an attempt at a pick me up. I wanted some flair. Something fun to take my mind of baby-making! I never got that far though, because before I covered my head in pink, I looked down and saw a very clear second line on the test (meaning: pregnant). I can’t write my honest reaction because my Mom does not approve of profanity and I’m sure she’ll read this. I was surprised. I did not expect it. I had seen so many negative ones. I had just been to the doctor about my irregular uncooperative cycles. What kind of joke was this, that now is the time I’m pregnant? Like my uterus saying “HA you’re just impatient you fool!” I was so used to it not happening. I rushed downstairs to tell Steve. 

Steve, guess what? 

What? (not even looking up)

I’m pregnant.

No you’re not. (He looked at my questioningly, as if I was trying to trick him. He also was used to it not happening!)

Yes, I am. I just did a test and it’s positive. You want to come see?

*eyes wide with shock* Yeah!

Of course, I was unsure of myself. Maybe I should do a second test. Maybe it’s a false positive. 45 minutes later, I took another test, a different kind. Positive. 2 for 2. A few days later, I took another one. 3 for 3. Why did I take so many tests? Disbelief. Skepticism. Also, I didn’t feel a darn bit different. That would all change quicker than I expected.

* infertility meaning unable to conceive, sub fertility meaning a delay in conceiving.