My husband and I have been struggling to conceive for a year now. Yep – a year. When we first began trying to get pregnant, I had been off birth control for a few years, been taking prenatal vitamins, and I really avoided super unhealthy foods, alcohol, and was exercising regularly.
When we decided it was time to try, it was an easy decision. We knew we wanted to start a family and that there never would be a perfect time to have a child, but we felt that financially we were ready.
By financially ready, I mean we had enough money saved and plans for our future that we could support a child or two (you never know, there could be twins…).
I had read and watched so many stories of couples trying to get pregnant for years, wishing to start a family, with no luck and little hope going forward. Infertility treatments, doctor’s appointments, and even the road of adoption.
I told myself that if I was able to conceive a child, I would be eternally grateful considering there are so many out there that are unable or struggling to conceive.
So we tried to conceive.
After the first month of actively trying, my period was late. Almost three weeks late. I was so nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time.
I took a test and it was negative.
A few days later, I took another test. It was negative. I didn’t really understand what was happening, so I made a doctor’s appointment. The doctor took a test, negative.
I started getting all of this bloodwork done to try to figure out why my period was late, yet I wasn’t pregnant. My periods have always been regular and on schedule, so this was definitely out of the norm.
While this was going on for a couple of months, we tried again. And again – nothing.
The doctor finally realized that I could have a thyroid condition. Nothing crazy out of the normal range, but something to keep an eye on. He also recommended that I get an ultrasound on my ovaries if my period was that late again. But it was back to normal besides that first month.
So we tried again.
6 months of trying to get pregnant
After 6 months, it feels like you lose a little hope. It started feeling like a task, a chore, and it began to not feel “fun” anymore.
Between tracking apps, ovulation sticks, and feeling like we were trying so hard to conceive – we were exhausted.
We took a month off.
At the point, I really took a step back to see what we were doing, how we could do better, and how I could take better care of myself.
I continued to take my prenatal vitamins and I read so many “tips” online that should help with fertility. Avoid alcohol, exercise regularly, track your ovulation with 500 different apps, use ovulation sticks, make sure your partner does xyz – literally so many things.
We incorporated things that were realistic for us as a couple and continued on.
Here we are into the new year, over 12 months and no baby.
The Emotional Strain
I would be lying to you if I said I haven’t cried many days, been disappointed over and over, and have been upset hearing and seeing people who have announced they are pregnant – expected and unexpected.
And believe me when I tell you, I am thrilled to hear that you’re having a baby – but there is a part of me that breaks inside…because it’s not ME.
And when you say you didn’t want to have a baby or weren’t planning and it was an accident or you aren’t financially stable to afford any baby stuff, I want to slap you.
There are so many of us out there trying day and night to conceive a beautiful baby. To grow our family. And the one thing we want so badly, you didn’t want and yet we have to hear about how you are going to struggle.
It’s irking to me, but I will put a smile on my face and congratulate you and shower you with baby gifts to support you because that’s the person I am.
Getting pregnant or conceiving for some of us is HARD. It Is emotionally draining, physically draining, and it is hard on my marriage at times.
At this point, I am trying to stay as positive as possible. I keep telling my husband, “maybe it will happen this month” – maybe it will.
I know I am not alone in my story. You are not alone, either.
This post was submitted by a contributor who wishes to remain anonymous but wanted to share her story.