The hardest thing I have found about trying, is that you cant plan it. Planning and routine are really important to me and are the best way I have found to keep my anxiety in check but life’s a bitch and she doesn’t give a shit.
Since as early as I can remember I have only ever really wanted two things from life: a dog and babies. I spent most of my early childhood wheeling about a toy buggy and dragging a stuffed Dalmatian in my wake. So when I met my husband and he declared on our fourth date that he was desperate to get a dog, he even had his named picked out, I pretty much knew he was the one.
We ended up waiting a few years before taking on the commitment of a dog, we’re not irresponsible, but when we decided that the time was right the dog part was pretty easy. So when about three years ago my husband (then boyfriend) and I decided we were finally grown ups (ish), with much care and research, we found our beautiful scruffy Labradoodle Oscar. Getting him was the best thing we’ve done so far, and we both love him and our life together to bits, but this brings me to my point. We wanted a dog so we got one. We have now decided we’re a bit more grown up (ish). We managed a daft puppy and now have a well adjusted sweet natured dog, time to take the next step and try to grow a new human. Not so straight forward.
(Don’t get me wrong I am not trying to compare bringing up a child to bringing up a puppy, I realise the two are very different, just for us it feels like the logical next step.)
The waiting and my inability to plan for what comes next is a struggle. I write this looking back at old diary entries from April last year, and while I have come to terms a bit with the not knowing its still the hardest part. If someone could tell me you’ll be pregnant in two years I could deal with the waiting, the time isn’t so much the issue, its the not knowing. It could happen in two weeks, two months, two years or never. I’m a planner, I like to know when things are happening. I am not the girl you surprise with a weekend away with no notice (not that I hate surprises, just they have to be given in advance with time between the surprise and event, I know spontaneous). I like to know when things are happening, I like to research and feel prepared, I like to know what I will be doing. I pack for holidays weeks in advance, planning what I will take to the nth degree and researching weather and what you should wear for various activities. Before we even got engaged I had three secret Pinterest boards planning our wedding, it sounds crazy but I might not have had the confidence to say yes otherwise. Not because I wasn’t sure about my husband but because I wasn’t sure about me. I plan my way through big life changes, when I don’t have this as an option I crumble.
Unfortunately mother nature didn’t take my obsessive need to plan and imagine every scenario before it happens into account when she came up with the baby making bit, rude. I am also fully aware that what we’re going through pales in comparison to the heart ache many couples go through on the journey to procreation: spending years waiting and going through rounds of IVF and/or miscarriage. But how do others mange the no mans land of nothingness without even a plan or timescale to shore you up? Answers on a postcard please, any suggestions gratefully received. I would really like to know how other prospective parents cope with this?