Momlissa’s Weblog

Infertility, pregnancy and motherhood with a sense of humor (because crying isn’t an option!)

Putting out February 13, 2008

So we decided to have a baby.  I went off the pill and figured I would instantly get knocked up.  What happened was my period was longer, irregular and painful.  Close to a year went by and I was still babyless.  I decided I needed to do some research.  I went online and made some shocking discoveries.

One – you can only get pregnant two days a month.  All those horror stories I was told in high school were complete crap.  I found out that you had to chart your cycle and count twelve days back from the day you expected your next period.  That day was the day you were most likely to get pregnant.  So I’d been putting out all month, when really I only had to give it up one night.  I was a bit miffed.

Two – you are supposed to take your basal body temperature.  All you have to do is take your temp with a thermometer that reads your temp very precisely first thing in the morning before you move.  You keep track of your temp on a chart and when it spikes, you’re ovulating.  I don’t know if I’m just a freak, but when I open my eyes in the morning, the only thing on my mind is peeing and coffee.  Needless to say, I usually forgot about charting my temperature until I was two cups of coffee deep.

Three – you are advised to check your vaginal mucus.  I read that sentence and quickly skipped the paragraph.  I don’t want to know my body that well.

I decided to get serious.  Although I wasn’t willing to to keep track of my vagina’s mucus situation, there were other steps I could take.  I bought fertility tests (you pee on test strips and you get a positive when you’re ovulating) and jumped my hubby on my fertile days (and only my fertile days….he’d gotten enough free action). 

I fell into a depressing routine over the next six months.  Week one would be my period.  Week two would be spent gearing up to concieve.  I would test positive for ovulation and have sex imagining my husband’s sperm jetting into my egg (sex wasn’t about enjoyment for me anymore…it was a mission).  Weeks three and four would be spent with me feeling every symptom of pregnancy.  I would get sore breasts, nausea, exhaustion, food cravings and other random symptoms that I would then research for hours on the internet.  I would shop for baby furniture and maternity clothes, positive I was pregnant.  Then I would get my period and lock myself in my room and ball my eyes out, completely crushed. 

I felt like damaged goods.  I was barren.