The Trying

We try like crazy to not get pregnant.

Pills, timing, uterine devices, condoms, diaphragms.

We try it all.

Anything for us to be able to have sex without the consequence of a life.

And then we try like crazy to get pregnant.

Pills, timing, tests, vitamins, herbal teas, cervical mucous.

We try it all.

Anything for us to be able to hold a little life in our arms.

It’s never really up to us, is it?

You can’t always get what you want.

And, depending on which side of the pendulum you’re on- life can quickly seem cruel and unfair.

I sat on that last blog entry for a while before finding the cajones to publish it.

It felt too personal to invite others into.

And, to be honest, after this last round of late periods and thoughts of possibilities, I walked in our house and told my husband, “I don’t want to try anymore.”

The cycle feels a little masochistic sometimes.

Trying.

Failing.

Disappointment.

Surrender.

Those two weeks of waiting sometimes feel agonizing and unbearable as I over-analyze every possibility. What do my temperatures mean? Am I nauseous?  Could it be…? 

And other times I can’t wait to have my life back again.

Suddenly I’m thrilled to have the freedom to drink copious amounts of caffeine, relieved to live without fear of the inability to sleep for 8 consecutive hour in a row, and thankful to not have to think about the amount of maternity clothes that will need to come out of our budget.

I can’t decide if it’s a coping mechanism or if I’m just not actually ready to have kids.

And, it’s always in these moments that I’m yet again grateful that it’s not up to me. Life isn’t mine to create.

Try as I may to prevent or create, I am merely human. Too human. Inexplicably human. Hot, cold. Wanting, not wanting. Happy, sad. Crazy, sane. I’m a woman with five thousand different emotions, thoughts, desires (my poor husband).

So I’ve invited you into this journey with us.

I thought about letting that be it, but if there’s one thing I’ve heard over and over again since posting, it’s that people were thankful for my willingness to share. Thankful that I’m admitting that it’s not as simple as “have sex,  get pregnant”. Oh, and I’m a real person with a real name/face not hiding behind anonymity (which is mostly terrifying for me). 

So, with the invitation, I’ll try to be as vulnerable as I can muster. Sorry if it’s too much or if you didn’t want to know (you can choose to stop reading at any time).

Here’s where we’re at:

We’re about to enter into our “fertile days”.

This means a lot of things.

It means sex.

It means temperatures.

It means cervical mucous.

It means no coffee.

It means praying and asking that the Lord would continue to teach me, teach me, teach me, that I have to trust Him.

It means that another two week wait is just around the corner, and right now, the thought of that feels like more than I want to handle. Right now it just feels like another round of disappointments, wondering if something is wrong with me, and the realization that I’m a woman with little faith.

So here we go.

Us mere mortals, thinking we can or can’t.

But this time, I think we must surrender before we move forward.

It’s not up to us.

Never has been. Never will be.

Lord, have mercy.

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