TTC Math

I've been doing some scary TTC math. I know you may judge me. You will tell me I'm still young. But please don't. It doesn't make it any easier. And I know many who are trying for their miracles are older than me and hearing some nearly 30-something complaining about getting older is probably irritating and I am sorry for that. But it doesn't take away from how I feel. It doesn't stop me feeling that my dreams, the things I planned for, are slipping away.

I wanted to have my first child before I was 30. I mean quite a bit before, like around 27, 28, 29 at the very very latest. Mr. T and I had dreamed (dream?) of having a big family. We wanted to have 4 kids.  I was determined to be a young mother, I wanted to be in the best possible shape and I wanted to avoid any complications because of, what is referred to as, "advanced maternal age". Which if you can believe it, apparently starts at 35. Yes, by 35 you are of "advanced age". How frickin' unfair is that? So I figured if we want to have a big family we should start earlyish. 

But it wasn't only my penchant for planning and determination to be a young mum. It was also because I love being around kids and I wanted them in my life as soon as we were ready. Without them it feels as though a part of me is missing, a part of me that will never be completely whole until I have children in my life. And all this waiting seems to be tearing that hole inside me bigger and bigger, like it's eating me.

I then realized something that took the wind out of me. Unless I get pregnant by October, I won't become a mother before I'm 30. Panic! The realization that that is probably not going to happen hit me like a truck. Until then I had thought that even with our TTTC issues there was still a chance this would happen for us before the big 3-0. But the reality is, that if I do ever get pregnant, then I will be 30+ before I have my first child. Part of me says, just be grateful if you ever get pregnant, even if you're 50. But part of me says, after planning so much, after putting so much effort in to get the timing right, this is a kick in the teeth. Really you have to understand how close to obsessed I was (am?) with planning my pregnancies so that it would all work with age/career/life etc. 

I know this is an insane amount of pressure to put on our baby making efforts right now but.. I can't help this fact, can I? Mr. T keeps telling me that age is just a number, but who are we kidding? It's more than that, especially in the TTC world. I know I can't force this to happen. I have to accept that it's just the way it is. But can someone please tell that to my brain? It keeps doing scary TTC math.

Nocturnal Scrotal Cooling

This morning my husband mumbled these three words to me. Err.. what darling? I was up all night, he replied, researching nocturnal scrotal cooling. I read all these studies where the sperm count and quality were drastically improved when ice packs were applied to the balls all night, he explained. Men with varicoceles and men without chilled their scrotums at night and all had significant improvements. Sigh. This is what our morning pillow talk has been reduced to.

So, he said, I spent all night with the ice pack stuck to the fellas. See how cold they are? Uh.. just remind me never to use that ice pack in our picnic cool box again, okay? So here we are. Counting down the final days before the first semen analysis since the embolization. And Mr. T seems prepared to pull out all the stops. Or at least, freeze his balls off. 

And so, the ice packs await in the freezer. The scrotum prepares for a frosty reception. And a bemused wife who's not sure whether to laugh or to cry at the ridiculousness of it all, secretly hopes this will be the answer to her prayers. Nocturnal scrotal cooling. Who knew?

Oh Crappy Day!

This perfectly captures how I feel.

AF arrived yesterday morning, so the hope is gone. It was a bad day. I had hoped against hope but... Sometimes it feels like it's never going to happen for us. Thoughts about living a life child-free have crossed my mind, thoughts about accepting our infertility and moving on but... I know there is still hope, Mr. T only had his embolization in July. There is everything still to play for. I have to keep telling myself that. Perhaps that should be my new mantra. 

Oh and then someone I know sent this around in an email:

My response was, but neither can anything else! Then I started to imagine what if chocolate could get me pregnant? I'd have a family like 'cheaper by the dozen' by now! Oh my, I really am going loopy, imagining that an inanimate food stuff could somehow fertilize these lonely eggs of mine.

I've also decided that for my own sanity I need to stay away from facebook with all the baby and pregnancy announcements it's all a little too raw and I also think I need to keep my distance from IRL babies too... At the moment I can't trust myself not to crumple into an emotional mess of tears and streaks of mascara. I don't mean to offend any of my friends with babies, I just need to protect my heart, it is a little fragile right now.

To top it all off I had a horrendous phone call with someone to do with work today. He was thoroughly unpleasant to the point of being nasty. I have to play it nice though and keep it civilized, when all I wanted to say was 'Bite me asshole.' But whatever shake it off, right? People like that go through their lives miserable and horrible individuals. I get to wake up in the morning and be me, with all the wonderful blessings I have in my life.

So I will go to bed now and wake up in the morning telling myself:

There is everything still to play for. There is everything still to play for. There is everything still to play for. Hopefully if I say that enough times I'll start believing it.