Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Yes? No?
It's strange to think that after three years of dreading the possibility, I'm now reading every sign of my body to be affirmative. The idea that I could be nurturing life inside is a fascinating and hopeful one. I don't want to get too excited as we are about to go away on vacation with a couple that has a two year old as well as one on the way. Facing the fact that I might start menstrating again while with them is not that exciting. But the idea that I might not, is. That is the most unbalanced part of this journey: not knowing. It's been a long time since I had this uncertainity -- since applying for jobs, or waiting for the results of my PhD defense. That's why it's called faith.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Are you pregnant yet?
"Are you pregnant?" This was a question that the check-in desk attendant put to me and a friend as we were issued our boarding passes for a return flight yesterday.
"No, we're not," my friend said.
"Well, at least one of us might be," I countered. This is the truth; as I write I don't know if I am or not. And I don't know if I dare hope to be or not. So I feel nothing, trying not the read the signs of my body one way or another. Is it PMS? Or is the early signs of life growing inside me?
I spent the week with my friend, the young mother, as part of a panel presenting at an academic conference. My friend had the idea to return home early as she missed her one year old baby and husband. I had a lot of work to do and relished the idea of being home two days earlier than planned to recover from the week of being away. Of course I hoped my husbad and I might also spend a little time together over the weekend, knowing we had busy weeks ahead.
I enjoyed sharing a room and in general a good time with my friend on our trip despite the constant mentions of her baby, motherhood. She knew we were trying to conceive and had been one of the constant 'just checking in' inquirers over the past three years. I shared with her our experience thus far -- she herself had taken six months to get pregnant when first trying.
The week before leaving for a conference, I had a catch up with a college friend over the phone. She told me in detail that I really appreciated, about her own year journey with conception and her recent discovery that she had regularly had her period but not been ovulating.
"I spent most of my life trying not to get pregnant," she said in her charming North Carolina accent that I missed from our college days. "And now that it's okay, I can't to save my life."
We laughed at that and about this blog; about all the people around us that were 'popping them out' and our desire to maintain our careers, marriages, and the prospect of families.
Now I'm back home and oddly our very good friends have not officially invited us to their son's two year old birthday party tomorrow. They are pregnant with their second child and their first is like a nephew to us. We think of him at the airport on various trips around the world and were there the day after he was born. We've taken vacations with them and have another one coming up soon.
Did they not invite us because we don't have a child and this was a child's party? This seemed a strange but plausible explanation. Which leads me to the question: if we aren't able to have a baby for some reason -- and it's far too early to say yea or nay on this -- is this the future that awaits us? Awkwardness as people prattle on about their infant children; isolation from those events that invovled young families?
Normally I think women feel spurts of jealousy when they see others with husbands or babies that they want to have for their own. But this week I felt neither, just a mild curiosity about observing my own lack of reaction from afar, like an out of body experience. I conditioned myself to life the life I wanted; I didn't want to be a mother of three at twenty like my mother or twenty three like my sister.
I've always said I would love to adopt and stand by that as we head into our fifth month of 'trying.' This week we should know for sure either way what is happening. If not, the plan is to be tested when we are home for the holidays. What a journey bringing a life into the world is.
"No, we're not," my friend said.
"Well, at least one of us might be," I countered. This is the truth; as I write I don't know if I am or not. And I don't know if I dare hope to be or not. So I feel nothing, trying not the read the signs of my body one way or another. Is it PMS? Or is the early signs of life growing inside me?
I spent the week with my friend, the young mother, as part of a panel presenting at an academic conference. My friend had the idea to return home early as she missed her one year old baby and husband. I had a lot of work to do and relished the idea of being home two days earlier than planned to recover from the week of being away. Of course I hoped my husbad and I might also spend a little time together over the weekend, knowing we had busy weeks ahead.
I enjoyed sharing a room and in general a good time with my friend on our trip despite the constant mentions of her baby, motherhood. She knew we were trying to conceive and had been one of the constant 'just checking in' inquirers over the past three years. I shared with her our experience thus far -- she herself had taken six months to get pregnant when first trying.
The week before leaving for a conference, I had a catch up with a college friend over the phone. She told me in detail that I really appreciated, about her own year journey with conception and her recent discovery that she had regularly had her period but not been ovulating.
"I spent most of my life trying not to get pregnant," she said in her charming North Carolina accent that I missed from our college days. "And now that it's okay, I can't to save my life."
We laughed at that and about this blog; about all the people around us that were 'popping them out' and our desire to maintain our careers, marriages, and the prospect of families.
Now I'm back home and oddly our very good friends have not officially invited us to their son's two year old birthday party tomorrow. They are pregnant with their second child and their first is like a nephew to us. We think of him at the airport on various trips around the world and were there the day after he was born. We've taken vacations with them and have another one coming up soon.
Did they not invite us because we don't have a child and this was a child's party? This seemed a strange but plausible explanation. Which leads me to the question: if we aren't able to have a baby for some reason -- and it's far too early to say yea or nay on this -- is this the future that awaits us? Awkwardness as people prattle on about their infant children; isolation from those events that invovled young families?
Normally I think women feel spurts of jealousy when they see others with husbands or babies that they want to have for their own. But this week I felt neither, just a mild curiosity about observing my own lack of reaction from afar, like an out of body experience. I conditioned myself to life the life I wanted; I didn't want to be a mother of three at twenty like my mother or twenty three like my sister.
I've always said I would love to adopt and stand by that as we head into our fifth month of 'trying.' This week we should know for sure either way what is happening. If not, the plan is to be tested when we are home for the holidays. What a journey bringing a life into the world is.
Friday, November 6, 2009
They never go to the bathroom
In the movies, after the deed, they never go to the bathroom. Anyone else think that is false advertising?
Was just writing to my newly married friend who had a UTI (urinary tract infection) and the irony struck me: sometimes you have to get up right after to make sure the germs don't invade your system. Other times you have to lay there, hoping that they do.
This week I was pleasantly surprised by a chat with a colleague, a woman who teaches at a university nearby. Ambitions and newly married, she also is in this mad process of making your body do something it could have done much easier ten years ago.
It felt good to share that with someone in the same stage.
"I'm the oldest in the house," she said, "so I have no one to really look to on this."
I'm the middle child and my sister has three kids. So there's plenty of knowledge there. But as usual I'd rather feel everything even the scary stuff rather than be told 'it will all be alright' or 'everything will happen in time.' Both may be true but neither really help in the duration.
Was just writing to my newly married friend who had a UTI (urinary tract infection) and the irony struck me: sometimes you have to get up right after to make sure the germs don't invade your system. Other times you have to lay there, hoping that they do.
This week I was pleasantly surprised by a chat with a colleague, a woman who teaches at a university nearby. Ambitions and newly married, she also is in this mad process of making your body do something it could have done much easier ten years ago.
It felt good to share that with someone in the same stage.
"I'm the oldest in the house," she said, "so I have no one to really look to on this."
I'm the middle child and my sister has three kids. So there's plenty of knowledge there. But as usual I'd rather feel everything even the scary stuff rather than be told 'it will all be alright' or 'everything will happen in time.' Both may be true but neither really help in the duration.
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