Finding a silver lining

I’m of the mentality that forcing positivity on people can be just as damaging as negativity but when you’re going through one of your absolute worst nightmares, you have to try and find a silver lining somewhere, right? So, with gritted teeth in slight hysterics I miraculously came up with the following pros and some of of the most concerning cons.

Pros 

👍🏼Body Awareness
I think I’ve mentioned this before but I have never been so knowledgeable of my cycle from, basal temperature changes to cervical positions and fluids I can tell you exactly what is going on down there and getting pregnant is definitely not one of them. Bitterness aside, I’m now able to note any change that could have other serious indications as soon as possible which can’t be a bad thing. 

👍🏼Blood Tests
Blood tests don’t make me nervous anymore, in fact, me and some of the phlebotomists are basically mates. I had one lady take my blood two weeks on the run…I’m thinking of asking her to be a bridesmaid. 

👍🏼Body Confidence
I encourage the growth of wild flowers in my lady garden…if you get my drift. I’ve been poked and prodded enough now that gardening isn’t really a priority anymore and I am past caring whether I’m wearing my Bugs Bunny knickers or not, freedom.  

👍🏼 Albert and Cecil
Luke is finally letting me get a kitten, there’s nothing quite like being told that your ovaries probably aren’t working to make your fiancé totally change his mind on the pet ban.

Cons

👎🏼 Treatment 

The closer I get to having real life treatment fills me with hope but also dread, what if it doesn’t work? Although I’m finally being given the chance to use my options, one dose of medication can knock a method out of the park as well as provide extra hope. I’ve only just realised that I’ve still somehow managed to remain in denial – two years of investigative work, being poked and prodded and stabbed and scraped hasn’t really meant anything, I wasn’t infertile then I was just ‘getting things looked at’ you know, ‘just to be sure’ now, I’m officially on the road to being treated for infertility and that sucks.

👎🏼Vulnerability 

Luke and I are a pretty strong couple, we’ve had our ups and downs and moments as all couples do and going through this hasn’t necessarily brought us closer but has ensured that we maintain some consistency in short, he’s probably too scared of my hormonal rages to disagree with me but either way it’s working. However, one frightening and depressing truth is that I can’t do this without him. Even though he’s still basking in his super-sperm glory, I am still not working and I can’t get my treatment without him even though it makes complete sense, there’s just something about being totally reliant on someone else, anyone else, even him that irks my inner control freak.

👎🏼 Pregnancy worries 

What if I hate it? Will people think I’m ungrateful? I’m under no illusions that pregnancy is a walk in the park; I’ve seen plenty of friends suffer with sickness and sciatica to name a few. It’s very easy when you’re TTC to mentally glamorise pregnancy and convince yourself that you’ll be like Beyonce, but what if I’m not? Am I allowed to have days where I feel sorry for myself or do I have to remain eternally grateful to my body for finally doing what it’s supposed to do?

👎🏼When would I stop?
For me, I want an answer; having unexplained infertility is something that I’m most fearful of because I don’t know at what point I would stop trying, stop hoping and putting my life on hold.