The End of Surreal

My 8 months of trying to conceive was long, gruelling and emotionally harrowing. And really, by comparison to the length of time it takes some people who suffer with secondary fertility it is a relatively short period of time. And yet, there’s nothing about it that seems short. I have an infinite respect for other people who go through the trying to conceive turmoil for only a small amount of time or an unbelievably long amount of time. After 8 months I was wondering how many more months I had in me. I can’t imagine how people feel after two years.

For a while the pregnancy test was sitting on my kitchen bench. I would look at it every now and again for reassurance because the whole thing just seemed so surreal. After months of expecting to get pregnant, I’d crossed over into struggling to believe that it would ever happen. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something bad to happen. And although it’s only been a few days, I’m settling into it, just a bit now.

I’m not waiting to get my period. I’m figuring out ways to get more nap time, and making sure I take my vitamins and taking extra care of my teeth (first pregnancy resulted in about 12 cavities. Yes, 12! I’d rather not do that again). And most importantly, I’m reminding myself that no matter how tired I am, or how uncomfortable I get, I will not complain about it, because I am so grateful.

Part of the reality is that there are all sorts of things I haven’t let myself even think about for a really long time. I haven’t bought anything even remotely baby, even though at times I was sorely tempted. I also have not done any of the things that I swore I would do before I got pregnant. Like get back to a more comfortable weight, get back to exercising and get fit, paint the house and redo the floors, convert the garage into a playroom so I have a fighting chance of getting a dining room table and encouraging some actual table manners. Just to name a few. And all of a sudden that seems like a really long list. Really long. But i don’t care, at least I can buy onesies now.

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Tagged as: pregnancy, trying to conceive