Four

So it’s been four months, and there’s no sign of a baby anywhere.

I don’t want this blog to turn into a, I don’t know, infertility blog, because it’s not. But it’s been four months of trying and we’re not pregnant and after that much unprotected sex, you can’t help but reflect, or, at the very least, conjure up all of the cliches about not needing birth control in the first place, how it isn’t all that easy to get pregnant, etc.

Admittedly, it’s disappointing when you start to realize you’re not part of the same camp as your friends were, the kinds who got pregnant on their first or second tries. For as much as you remind yourself that it doesn’t always happen right away, you pretty much assume that won’t be you.

We’ve decided it’s still too soon to worry or fret. I have a Hashimoto’s diagnosis now, and I know that a bona fide thyroid disease will wreck havoc on your fertility. It’s being treated, there’s hope.  That said, I had a dream last night that I took a pregnancy test and it showed two blue lines, despite the fact that my period had started. I’m not thrilled to be having those kinds of dreams already, but I suppose when you pee on enough sticks such dreams are bound to happen.

Saturday night over dinner I suggested we stop trying for a month or two. Life is hectic right now, and the stress we both have been feeling as been enormous. Scott countered that we may have been a bit lazier than we should have been. So, we came to the conclusion that we’d give it one more concentrated shot before putting the operation on pause.

So here we are at month 5. I’m not looking for advice or anything of the sort. We’re OK, if not a little disappointed. We know the statistics we’re up against, so it’s helped to temper our reaction. Just the same, we’ve been together four years this spring and I’ve already figured out that I could have save myself almost $1200 in birth control by now.