Unbearable: Falsely Positive
Having a child is usually a happy time in a woman’s life. Unfortunately, as we wait longer to have children, infertility and trouble conceiving can become a part of the family making process. Unbearable addresses these difficulties.
For the past year, I’ve been trying to conceive a second child. I’ve been timing and testing and praying. Then I spend a couple days feeling really sorry for myself. It’s a grand cycle of hope, anticipation and intense sadness. I haven’t visited a clinic yet or started hormone therapy, but I have begun researching my options.
For now, I’m just counting days and getting teary-eyed for any reason whatsoever. But an interesting phenomenon has begun, and I hoping that someone out there relates. Honestly, I’m writing about this so someone will say, “That’s happening to me, too!” and then I won’t feel like I’m going crazy. So here’s the big reveal: I feel pregnant. Everywhere I look, I see signs that I’m pregnant. I know, in my head, after going through two boxes of tests, that I’m not. Knowing that doesn’t stop my body from sending these horribly persuasive signals to my brain.
I’ve had a child before. I know what pregnancy feels like. You would think that I could recognize it fairly easily. But every time I crave French fries, which happen to be my favorite food, I think that it might just be a sign. Every time my stomach flutters, I picture adorable newborns. They are a lot more pleasant to think about than indigestion anyway. The worst time is the last week, when I’m hopeful and hormonal anyways. When I’m positive that my chest is achy and my joints are sore. During this week, I’m practically bursting to tell people. I’m just so sure. And then there are those damn flutters. But in the end, every test comes back negative. Everytime, those flutters fooled me.
I try not to adjust my routine for these false flutters anymore. The first time that I didn’t pick up feminine products, because I was positive that I wouldn’t need them, I started my period in the middle of the night. I had no backup. Don’t we love husbands for this reason alone? Each time I don’t stop at Starbucks, just in case I should be laying off the caffeine, I get angry with myself. Now, I think I stop just to spite my uterus and the false hope its selling.
My mind is playing tricks on me. It’s seeing what it wants to see, instead of the reality of my situation. This wouldn’t be quite so awful if it didn’t set me up for an even larger fall. Your period may be obnoxious, but it’s downright detrimental when you’re trying to get pregnant. Periods, they put the exclamation point on “This sucks!” Aw, punctuation humor. At least I’ll always have that.
So I’m hoping that I’m not alone. I’m hoping that others have experienced a little of this gestational Munchausen’s. I’m also hoping that my uterus will catch up to my head.