This is a big month. A month filled with an array on contrasting emotions that seem to come and go as they please. I feel a bit scattered and even neurotic at times. You see, this is our first month “trying” to get pregnant again. A little history will probably help set the stage.

We are part of the infertility club, almost six years strong now. Four losses, no living children to tuck in at night. Our first two losses were back to back first trimester miscarriages. They were followed by depression, a gazillion fertility tests & procedures and finally, a positive pregnancy test with the help of IUI almost three and a half long years later. We lost our sweet baby boy Jake at 28 weeks to an umbilical cord accident. Our lives felt like a horrific joke. But we were determined to get the last laugh. We lost our next baby at 10 weeks just six months later.


I was done. No negotiating. Unless I had a treatable reason for losing my babies I refused to put another baby in the dangerous dwelling of my womb. I was scared, no, I was petrified. So I was DONE. My family would have to expand by other means.

Fast forward to a few months later. I learned I have been doubly blessed (insert rolling of eyes) with two genetic mutations, both having negative effects on pregnancy. I have MTHFR and thrombophilia. Dangerous, but treatable. Treatable. That’s all I needed to hear. And my desire to get pregnant began to grow and grow again. Only much more slowly and very cautiously this time.

My husband and I decided to wait until the hope outweighed the fear, even if only temporarily.

So here we are. The infamous two week wait. We’re easing in if I’m being honest. The chances of us conceiving without help from that oh-so pleasant catheter (IUI) are low, very low. We aren’t ready for that just yet. So we are trying on our own. In our own bedroom, in the beautiful quiet and peaceful place that people should be trying in. Not an exam room with a tube of washed semen in your bra awaiting for the doctor to come give your possible little one a boost.

pals 1We haven’t tried “on our own” in years. I had honestly forgotten what immense pressure it puts on intimacy. Am I in the best position for them to find their way? Is this the best time of the day? Did he remember to you know (cough, cough), replenish the goods? So much for romance when you are trying to check off a laundry list of perfect baby making measures in your head.

What I’ve noticed so far is that I feel a bit in denial. It’s as if I have accepted that we are trying to get pregnant but haven’t come close to accepting that we could actually be pregnant in two weeks. Pregnant… It’s a lot to take in after you’ve been broken down by this exact dream and reality before. Many times before. You see the process of getting there is always so long for us that I am convinced we have time to prepare for the baby part. But maybe we don’t.

Of course it’s what we wantbut are we prepared for the reality of doing this again? Are we ready for those two lines to appear? Are we ready for the first ultrasound? Are we ready for the sound of a heartbeat ringing in our ears? Are we ready for reckless hope amidst trembling fear? I don’t know. But I don’t know that we can ever really be “ready.”

We just know what we want. And we know we have to try to get there. Trying is the first step to getting what we so deeply desire. So here we are, trying.

So ready or not, here we go.

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