TTC Insanity

Every morning when my alarm clock goes off, I reach with one hand to silence it while my other hand goes to the thermometer I keep next to the bed.  I pop the thermometer in my mouth and wait until it beeps, getting the reading before I so much as sit up.

Once I do sit up, I turn to my laptop and enter the temperature reading onto a handy little line graph.  Normally, I'm disappointed by what I see.

I get a shower, get dressed, and head downstairs.  While I prepare my morning coffee, I pop pills from three different bottles, kept next to the coffeepot so I don't forget.  One is a basic multivitamin, one is an iron supplement, and one is a folic acid pill, which is completely uncoated and about as easy to swallow as a handful of sawdust.

This is the wonderful world of TTC (trying-to-conceive).  It is a world of measurements, science, and acronyms.  It's a sorority of women who, for whatever reason, are just having difficulty getting pregnant.  While for many couples it's just a matter of "We stopped taking the pill and then we had a baby", it's not that simple for us.  We chart our BBTs (basal body temperatures).  We can tell you what CD (cycle day) we're on, how many DPO (days past ovulation) it is, whether our LPs (luteal phases) are too short, and we even have a good idea of when our OD (ovulation day) was.  For instance, I'm on CD2 after a short 19-day cycle where my OD was CD 8.  But my prior cycle was 46 days and my OD wasn't until day 37, so there's really no consistency.

Some of the acronyms stand for things too gross to even think about.  If you come across any TTC message boards, don't Google CM, or especially EWCM.  Just don't.  You're happier not knowing.

But before this devolves into a contemplation of ideal endometrium thickness, let me get back on-topic and explain WHY I am so focused on trying.  Well, part of it is, as I have admitted in the past, that I do suffer from obssessive-compulsive disorder.  So, when dealing with something that's possibly beyond my control, I like to compartmentalize and organize it, break it down into neat little charts and graphs.  It's a lot easier to say, "I have ovarian insufficiency and adhesion disorder," than, "I might never be able to have a baby again."

And I know that I want another child.  My husband is already an incredible dad, and I know he would be great with another little one.  I know my son would make a wonderful big brother.  And I know that I want to be mommy to a little baby again.

Because I'm serious about that, I do everything that is in my power to make it happen.  However, I have to find that balance where I do all I can while still realizing that, ultimately, it's not up to me.