Trying to get pregnant involves sex and sex is supposed to be fun, right? In theory...
One sure fire way to cool down your marital sex life to mechanical status is to starting trying to get pregnant.
The first month was fun. (mom, close your ears...or eyes I guess for blogging purposes.) Truly, it was. Then I took a pregnancy test (let's be honest, I probably took 4 that first month) and it was negative. Let the structured, means-to-an-end sex schedule begin.
***I have to clarify that from the moment I knew we wanted to have a baby (so that was like a year ago at this point in my story), I felt a deep-seated intuition that having the family we wanted wasn't going to be easy breezy for us. I didn't know what that would look like though. Would we try for 9 months and then it would happen? Would something be wrong with my system or his? Would I need take hormones in order for it to happen? Would we need IUI or IVF? Would I conceive and miscarry? Would we have to use a surrogate or adopt? Would it be this pregnancy that was tricky or future ones, or both/all? I had no idea, I just genuinely knew that something would trip us up, but I told myself it was because I just wanted it so badly for so long and it was fear talking...***
So when that first, second, third and fourth test read negative that first month and my period soon followed I slowly began to panic. I talked myself out of the funk of that panic by the decision that while we were trying to conceive, if I got my period, we were going out for booze and raw fish.
September 2008= salmon sushi and a margarita
October 2008= salmon sushi and SEVERAL margaritas
November 2008= a very very very faint, but very real POSITIVE :)
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