legs in the air

Am I doing this right?

I ask, myself, as I lay there on my bed. Legs up in the air.

Every once in a while I bring them down but make sure to keep my pelvis raised or at least on an angle upwards.

My hand cupped between my legs.

Did I really just share that? Am I sharing this?

We are trying to get pregnant.

Trying. Hoping. Doing it. A lot. In a short period of time to catch that window.

I say trying because I have no idea if it’s going to happen or if it’s happening.

I think about the whole getting pregnant thing a lot. I’ve gone most of my sexually active life hoping not to get pregnant until that year we actually set out to get pregnant and each month I’d get my period and we’d try again, over and over. After 11 months we gave up hope and also took a breath knowing that if we got pregnant that month we’d be in a bit a thick water with our careers (me more than Anth but regardless). That’s the month we got pregnant.

You hear a lot, that’s the way it happens but I call BS on that.

Maybe we were just hitting the wrong chunk of time? Maybe it was the whiskey and the moody dark bar with good music that night? Was it that I had no idea what was going on with my body? Was it that the stress leading up to that caused everything to shift thus throwing us into the right spot even though I thought we were for sure in the clear? I’ll never know.

And I wish I did so we could do it again this time.

But something worked and we were lucky enough to get pregnant. And we made this amazingly funny and big feelings boy who is my entire world.

I honestly don’t know how it lined up and I wish I did so that this time didn’t feel as heartbreaking.

This time I feel more clear about how the body works, about how great motherhood is (despite the wild chaotic hard side) and this time I’m also more aware of all the ways in which it may not work as entering motherhood put me into the world of all the stories of all the women around me which have opened my eyes to all the fertility journeys, too.

The more I know, the more I worry that I might fall into those areas, and that unknown lingers in my every thought about getting pregnant.

I’ve only just started to open up to others about us trying again. Maybe it’s that it’s starting to come on thick from my son, or maybe it’s that for me I’ve become deeply saddened that we aren’t where I hoped and worked to be. Maybe it’s that I’m getting more and more questions about if we are in the “one and done club”, or maybe it’s because Oscar is almost 5 now, and I always hoped that my kids would be close, but in nature and again. I’m not sure why it’s feeling so much bigger but I’ve started to open up and share about it.

I even started posting here again which has given me some comfort as writing has always been this healing experience for me and even though I have no idea who’s here reading these words, just putting them out in the universe instead of keeping them under lock and key in my heart, well - I know how much weight it carries.

So we are here again, trying again.

Over the past 2 years, we’ve tried for a few periods, always stopping when the nine months out would push into our heavy work seasons. I carry a lot of pain about when Oscar was born and how my pregnancy caused others to react to me. I’ve done a lot of work on that and 4+ years later it still feels tender. But that’s another post for another day, although a little long story short; because of my seasonal work, having a baby in the middle of wedding season when I’ve booked out at least 1-2 years ahead, collected retainers, and made promises, well - the first time around canceling on people and finding alternative people and plans caused me so much stress I was worried I was going to miscarriage, not to mention the guilt I carried all the way until today which has completely clouded over how we’ve decided to grow our family. I’ve even been cyberbullied about sharing my motherhood story which is more pain I still carry. And despite all of that there have been times where in the past 2-3 years we did try but obviously none of that trying led to the second baby I am still hoping for.

Life. Mental health. Hardships. Mental health. A health scare. A push from my gyno to stop pausing because of work and now here we are, month three of trying with only a baby insight at the finish line.

This time is different.

It’s harder.

I’m more aware of the hiccups and hold-ups. I know more of the fertility journey than the stories of being quick to get pregnant. I don’t know where I fall. It took a year with oscar but that tells me nothing because I have no idea what really stuck last time.

All I know is that I want this.

And I know that I’m ovulating.

A little stick full of my urine lights up with a happy face and tells me it’s go time. I’m basically putting all my hopes into this little stick hoping it will guide us to the right window of time.

But while the first time we could literally drop our pants the minute the stick lit up, this time there is still life before a reasonable and appropriate time to drop trow.

First its dinner time, then there was the tantrum, bathtime, and another tantrum. Bedtime. A long bedtime with book after book until we both fell asleep; me & Oscar. When I wake groggy and confused with sex being the last thing I want to do because crawling into my own bed with cozy pjs and my soft pillow is all I want, I know it’s go time.

I ovulate close to my period which doesn’t help with feeling sexy. I feel soft and swollen and getting naked isn’t feeling great. But I also have a husband who sees me in a way I wish I could see myself and that always puts me in a place of feeling safe and more confident.

Talking about sex is not something I’m used to doing outside of cocktails and dark bars with gossipy girlfriends but here I am. So take this as the part where we’ve done our thing and then after, when you are trying it’s a little different. It kind of takes away the magic and the fun.

It’s anxiety filled and clinical.

Google says to stay laying down. But also it says that’s a myth. Legs in the air. but also don’t do that, that’s also a myth.

Don’t pee. Don’t stand up. Remember gravity.

I think I have to pee.

Don’t pee.

Last time I got a bladder infection after the week we tried. Other times I would pee right away cause that’s what I’ve been taught.

So here I lay. Pelvis tilted up, you know where my hand is cupped. And its not even 9:30pm. As a parent already, this is the portion of the night us parents get to ourselves, but now I’m in bed, but not sleeping. Just laying here. Wondering and worrying.

Oscar has a night terror. the dogs need to go out to pee. Oscar has to be woken to pee because we are overnight potty training. Life doesnt stop. It doesnt stop to get it on once that stick shows a happy face, and it doesn’t stop now.

So I get up. Gravity. I get dressed. I tidy up, and get the rest of the house ready for goodnight. I take the dogs out to pee and I eventually pee. And wake Oscar to pee.

And all while wondering if this time it maybe worked. We still have tomorrow. Day two of ovulating. Another day of trying. Another chance.

When I finally lay in bed to actually sleep, all I can do it lay awake in the darkness of my room with the moon shining down on me and wonder if this time it worked. If it will ever work, if I will be lucky enough to experience creating another baby and growing our family.

The hardest thing is that you do all this and then you wait.

And the cruel part about this is that you start to get hopeful as the month ends when your body starts to show symptoms that make you hopefuly but like I said it’s cruel because those same symptoms that can be that of being pregnant are the same to indicate your period is on the way.

Tender breasts. Acne flare-ups. Hunger.

Even spotting which could be implantation bleeding only to fully arrive as your period with the big announcement that it’s not your turn right now.

Pass go, collect 200 dollars. But no baby for you this month.