My husband and I have been trying for a baby for nine months now, without success.
Once you hit nine months of trying to conceive without joy, you start to realise that it’s not long until you’ve been trying for a full year, and then you really ought to start thinking about visiting your GP.
How ironic, that you are consistenly told that to conceive you must relax, have fun, and not get stressed about the process, but then all of a sudden it seems OK to worry about it and start making steps to figuring out what could be wrong.
Because after nine months, I have started to think that something must be wrong, surely.
The rational side of my brain tries to explain all the many, many, MANY reasons why I haven’t fallen pregnant yet, of which there are so many explanations that do not mean something is wrong but just that the stars haven’t been aligned yet.
I have realised more than ever that life really does get in the way. When you’re working too hard, or you get ill, or you haven’t really felt like having a lot of sex, and before you know it you realise you haven’t managed to have sex on those important ovulation days for the past two months. Or, you don’t think you have, but gosh these ovulation calendars can be complicated. And what if your ovulation cycle isn’t quite normal?
It’s time to buy those ovulation strips, isn’t it. It’s time everything needs to get a bit more serious and a bit more scientific.
I have downloaded an ovulation calculator to my phone, and an ovulation app as well, although I have drawn the line at one which sets an alarm for when I’m ovulating, like that woman has in the film “What To Expect When You’re Expecting”.
I’ve not yet started marking dates on the calendar so that the other half knows when we need to get it on, but I am cancelling plans ahead of time when I know they fall on those all-important ovulation days. My friends might think I’ve turned flaky but hopefully they will understand when I tell them why.