We had planned to start trying for a baby the old fashioned way in February 2021. If you know me at all, you’ll know I’m a pretty type A human being. I tend to obsess over things that I’m really eager to learn or do. I researched the crap out of conception.
I have always lacked female role models in my life. My grandma passed away when I was 18 and she was my favourite person in the world. We lived away from her from the time I was 12 until I was 17, and she was a bit old school so I never really learned much about my body and how things actually worked. I was thrown a box of tampons 2 years too late by my mother, and told I could have as much fun as I wanted as long as I was on the pill. That concludes my sex education.
When I started to research, I learned a lot. I’ll share some of that here eventually in case you, too, are lacking in your reproductive knowledge. In short, there are tests you can do that predict ovulation, and temperatures you can monitor to confirm that you’ve in fact ovulated. You can also pay attention to your cervical mucus to track time of the cycle. I started doing this way early. September started the biggest science experiment I had ever embarked on, tracking every little change in my body. I needed a baseline to go on, and I got just that.
In addition to the bodily functions, I also decided I wanted to do genetic carrier screening before we even tried for a baby. I ordered a kit online, it got mailed to me, I spit in a tube, popped it back in the mail and voila, I learned about one recessive gene I was a carrier for. Given the gene and the general lack of severity of the condition, we decided not to bother with screening my husband (we used a company called Invitae if anyone is looking to go this route).
We took a trip back to my extended family in Newfoundland and were ecstatic to share that we had wanted to start a family. I’m an open book, heart on the sleeve, over sharing type so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. Everyone in my own family assumed I’d never have kids. Nobody actually ever asked. Not once. I never got any pressure to reproduce or create grandkids or any of that. But along with that came the utter confusion about why nobody asked. Why they assumed I wouldn’t. And some mixed feelings about whether anyone even cared.
So we were ready to begin. February.
January rolled around, we returned from our trip and came home to find my husbands dog (from before me) was sick. He was 13 and had refused to eat or drink. After a trip to the vet and some news on his health we knew it was time to say goodbye. Something in us broke that day, we decided to have a staycation to take our minds off it.
After many beer later and a fancy hotel, we found ourselves longing for connection. In a drunken stupor for the first time in my life we said screw it, let our guard down, and started trying. One month early. Conveniently on my ovulation day.
That cycle didn’t work. Our dream of having our ghost dog manifest the perfect baby for us failed.
We got back to it the next month, on time. Fail.
March. Fail.
April. Fail.
May..…
Big.Fat.Positive (BFP for those not in the know).
My first ever positive pregnancy test.
Here’s a picture of that test and my test one day later. I saw it – husband did not, but I just knew I was pregnant.
