Jealousy and Inferiority

February 10, 2015

Yesterday a 30 year old woman came into the office with her few-month-old baby. Pretty girl, adorable baby. Baby within the confines of marriage. Good parents, being raised right, all the right stuff, ad nauseaum.  Yet I felt insanely jealous. And inferior. Who was she to have a baby? Why does she deserve to enjoy a baby, but I can’t? Why was her pregnancy just soooo easy and effortlessly conceived (of course, I assume these things)? I see other women every-freakin-where with their babies and I’m JEALOUS! I feel they don’t deserve to have it so easy, to have become impregnated seemingly by drinking a glass of water. That they Cant possibly truly appreciate their babies because the whole thing just came so naturally to them. I know these feelings are wrong and impure, are hurting no one but myself, and that I should squash them instead of presumably feeding them by doing something like typing them into this blog. Yet, I feel them nonetheless and this is supposed to be my “outlet.”

I’m having a hard time dealing with my jealousy issues. It makes me feel like a really, really bad, horrendous, despicable person. And I know the jealousy comes from a combination of inferiority, of feeling “less” than a whole woman, from anger at what I sometimes feel is the unjust hand life has dealt me, and the ceaseless ticking of my biological clock. 33 is fast approaching: 8 more weeks.

I know I must somehow deal with these emotions. Online forums can only do so much, and sometimes they even end up making me feel worse and not better. Maybe I should go talk to someone: ya know, a head shrink. I may as well use my insurance for something.

I’m now, after tonight’s BD, about to enter into another Two Week Wait (so revered in TTC land that it deserves to be capitalized). Two whole torturous weeks of waiting to find out if AF is coming or if I get a BFP. This week I began using the OPK and got a smiley face (positive!) on one day. Unfortunetely, that smiley face is apparently no guarantee that I’ll actually ovulate. I have some fears concerning that which I’ll share later. Alas, lunch break is over, meaning this blog post is over for the moment, too.

Babies, Babies, Babies: Obsession

February 5, 2015

TTC. OPK. BBT. PT. AF. DH. BD. CM. EWCM. LH. 2WW : these initialisms have become my life lately. Trying To Conceive. Ovulation Predictor Kit. Basal Body Temperature. Pregnancy Test. Aunt Flo. Dear Husband. Baby Dancing. Cervical Mucus. Egg White Cervical Mucus. Luteinizing Hormone. Two-Week Wait. The list goes on and on and on. My life simply seems to revolve around these things lately.

This morning I awoke when my alarm beeped at 6:00 a.m. to take my daily BBT. Here’s how it goes: In a semi-conscious doze I roll over, as habit, fumbl for my thermometer, turn it on, stick it in my mouth, and “temp.” After the device records my temp I turn it off, place it back on the bedside table, and promptly fall back asleep.

When I finally manage to roll out of bed at 6:45 I groggily make my way to the bathroom where I assemble the day’s OPK test strip. After assembling the test I haphazardly attempt to pee in a very small disposable bathroom cup, placing the test strip into said cup, then wait three interminable minutes for my results. No LH surge detected. I then input the day’s BBT and OPK results in to my Period Calendar app on my phone (checking to be sure I included last night’s BD into the app) before I’m able to begin my day as a “normal” human.

I never imagined that I’d join the throes of women who are attempting to get pregnant and (somewhat) obsessing over it. Alas, here I am. And obsession indeed it can be. Some women take this to such a level that message boards and forums rule their lives. Every initialism is memorized. Every minute body signal analyzed to the enth degree. Boxes of PTs used each month. Sadly, I can understand the obsession. Which is why I must resist the temptation to do the same and become “one of them.” In a way I am “one of them,” but I try valiantly to keep it in check. Balance is such a wonderful, key thing, and I have too much time on my hands (and interminable time to think in my head) that I simply have to keep myself in check. I subscribe to one TTC forum. I own one book (The Impatient Woman’s Guide to Getting Pregnant”–awesome book). I keep the PTs down to one a month. The TWW can seem interminable, followed by the inevitable blow (here’s hoping for next time though–already!) when AF eventually rears her ugly red head.

I never thought much about having children during my formative years. Honestly, I don’t think I even gave much of a crap either way. I was never one of those little girls who dreamt of having babies and did everything possible to ensure it happened as soon as possible. Instead, I simply didn’t have a “vision” of my future and what I wanted out of it. In fact, for many years I did everything in my power to not get pregnant. Funny now looking back at that time and how easy it was to not get pregnant and how difficult it sometimes seems to get a BFP. Life is funny like that. Some might say life is cruel like that. But I disagree with that assessment. I will keep all bitterness out of this. I always figured that if I were to have kids that God would just give them to me; and if I wasn’t supposed to then,–hey–that would be that. But then the Biological Clock started ticking. I guess I was around 28 or 29 then. And it’s been steadily ticking onward and closer ever since. Now, here I am 32 years old, 1 ovary, 4 surgeries later desperately attempting to feel like I can grasp some control over something that I essentially have no control over.

That’s the whole thing about this TTC: control. There is none, at least on my part. All I can do is to do my part and rely on God to do the rest. Which is super hard for me cause I’m one of these people who enjoys being in control. And here I am faced with an area where any amount of control I may think I have goes completely out the window. Getting a BFP is only in God’s control.