When it's not like it should be

 

Indeed!

In hindsight, there were a few clues that something was off and having a baby wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed to have been for many of my friends who followed this precise procedure:

1) Have sex.

2) Get pregnant.

3) Have a baby.

I had sex. Lots of times. To date, I have not gotten pregnant, nor do I have a baby. 

And the clues as to why were as follows.

For starters, my period was going haywire. It responded to every emotion, happy or sad. I quit my job and my period was eight days late. My grandfather died and my period was a week early. 

Then there was the fact that I was on a progestin (instead of estrogen) birth control pill for several years. Progestin pills are not as reliable at preventing pregnancy as estrogen pills, and to be as reliable as possible, you must take them at the same time every day, without fail. 

I can barely take a shower at the same time every day without fail, so you can imagine how reliably I took my birth control. My husband and I were supposed to use a “back up method” of birth control if I was even merely three hours late taking the pill. We never used a back up method.

Here is what the information packet that comes with my birth control pill says about the effectiveness of the progestin pill: 

About 1 in 200 users will get pregnant in the first year if they take all pills perfectly. About 1 in 20 “typical” users gets pregnant the first year of use. 

To put this in perspective, I have a friend who got pregnant while she was taking this pill. She now has an adorable baby as proof!

At any rate, since I quit the pill, my cycle has been all over the map, ranging from 24 to 29 days. After my last period started, I decided to buy the book Making Babies, and you might say that if my infertility (if that’s what it is) is a murder mystery, then I’m a detective who’s all over the case.

I’m cutting out processed foods and adding more whole grains, fruits, and vegetables to my diet. I’m trying to cut out alcohol and caffeine. I’m massaging my abdomen.

 This is what it's come down to.

I’m using a heating pad on my abdomen. I’m testing my urine for lutenizing hormone, which tells you when you’re going to ovulate. I’m taking my temperature every morning for the same reason. 

 This temperature spike is supposed to indicate ovulation.

I’m observing my cervical mucus. 

I have not, to date, begun to check my cervix’s position every day, but I am pretty sure that those dark days shall come to pass. *shudder*

More on that in a future post. 

What I’m trying to say is: Trying to get pregnant is all-encompassing. You don’t want it to be but it demands your attention all day, every day. It’s like being pregnant, without the benefit of actually knowing for certain that at the end of all this, a baby shall emerge from your nether regions.

And this stuff I’ve mentioned – it’s just the tip of the iceberg. There is so, so much more involved. Which is why we started this blog. We could go on for days, weeks, and months about this stuff. And we probably will.

Why This Book

Fertility is a billion dollar industry in the United States.

I will give you a minute to let that sink in.

Seriously, it's like every wedding planner out there has a smarter cousin who decided to go to medical school and make the real money. Eight hundred dollars for cake? Phsaw! How about sixteen thousand for one round of IVF -- which might not work? Yep, smarter cousins.

It isn't just doctors making money off malfunctioning naughty parts either. People are selling tests, drugs, herbs, salves, exercise programs, juice regimes, lubricants, and a litany of other things all with the promise of helping couples conceive. Oh, and books, we musn't forget about the books.

I have been trying to get pregnant since the economy was still good and bacon was only for breakfast. In that time I have bought, and discarded, at least a dozen books. Most of them were simply unreadable. Some of them were too cutesy and wanted to infantilize the whole situation. I mean, I don't need to read about "baby dust" before going in for a transvaginal ultrasound. And calling sex the "baby dance"? No. Just no. Then I found "Making Babies: A Proven 3-Month Program for Maximum Fertility." I expected it to end up on the discard pile as well. It did not.

I feel like this book is different. First off, it doesn't say everyone should be doing the same thing. In fact, it says people should be doing wildly different things depending on what they think is wrong. Second, it wants to treat the person before it treats the infertility. Good health is the main objective, on the idea that good fertility will follow. Third, it tells you how long you should do it: three months. I figure I can do anything for three months.

Of course, the big question is does it work? Well, hell, I don't know yet. I know I would like it to. And I know I am ready to share the journey with you, Erin and Christina.

If nothing else, it only cost me twenty bucks.