First Month

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend who just started ‘trying’.  It was her first month.  And first negative pee stick. 

That was four years ago for us.  I could have pulled out my sassiest voice and said ‘Well, I’ve been ‘trying’ for four years, beat that!’  But I don’t have sass in me.  So, I could have mustered all the indignation possible and said ‘You would bother ME with a month?  I’m an old hag in the trying world.’  But I don’t have much indignation, either.  I could have been mean:  ‘You’ve just started.  Get over it.  You’ll have many months of depression ahead.’ I could barely type that, forget saying it!  Instead, I actually felt her anxiety.  I felt bad for her. 

This is huge for me.  I, infertile for four years, naturally came up with empathy as my first reaction.  That definitely isn’t me.  That’s God.  Me would have been a dark cloud of un-niceness (is that a word?) retreating into the corner of self-pity.  Though, I wonder how I will feel if next month she is peeing positive and I’m still twiddling my thumbs…Ah, when we get there, we’ll deal.  I understand how frustrating it is when your whole life you’ve been trying to *not* get pregnant, only to find out that it’s actually pretty hard *to* get pregnant (unless you are a teenager, for some reason). 

For all us out there, who are ‘trying’ — whether it’s your first month, year or decade — baby dust and prayers all ’round.  Hey, why are you reading my blog?  Go find your hubby and try!