I tend to believe everything is exactly as it should be, even if it’s not exactly the way I’d want it to be. But if someone had asked me 15 years ago if I’d be more likely at the age of 33 to
a) have 6 kids or
b) have no kids
I would have guessed I’d be the happy mother to half a dozen children by now. That is a young mind for you, nary a clue how life might unfold.
Early warning signs of trouble ahead included a longer than normal cycle (30 to 40 days), painful periods and spotting before, after and sometimes in between periods. It’s not like I didn’t ask doctors if these things were normal. I did. The typical response was a random blood test and a recommendation to try the Pill, which I always declined to do.
There were also the Natural Family Planning (Creighton Model) classes John and I took before getting married. The instructor said my temperature charts were just too unpredictable, so she advised I rely on my cervical mucus instead to avoid or achieve pregnancy. That should have been a red flag.
In fairness, not all the doctors have been oblivious. One, a few years ago, ran a ton of tests and then told me my hormone levels weren’t ideal. No worries. I was certain my hormones weren't any worse than a crack addicts and they get pregnant all the time. Other doctors have suggested Clomid, which seems extreme without a diagnosis and at least trying holistic options first.
That said getting pregnant naturally is no piece of cake. (Mmm, cake. Did I mention needing to eliminate junk carbs, kick my Excedrin addiction and lose weight?) I’ll leave my disdain for making life changes for another post. For now, let me say I’m excited to have company on this journey, though I would not have thought making a baby would involve anyone other than me and my husband.