Plans are made to be broken, or so they say. I don’t like when my plans are broken. I like when everything goes according to plan. Which isn’t to say that I don’t like to be surprised by life, I do, it is just that sometimes it is nice when everything works out the way I had planned.
It has been nine months now. Nine months of actively trying to conceive baby #2. We are now into the realm of “if we had gotten pregnant (enter month) we’d be having a baby now.” That sucks, there is no other way to say it, it just sucks. Maya is going to be 3 in a little over a month. She was supposed to have a new sibling right before or shortly after her third birthday, that was our plan. Now, we are looking at her being at least 3 and a half, at least.
Each month that goes by it gets a little harder. Each month the disappointment is a little harder to bare, it hurts a little deeper. My body has disappointed me and I hate to say that because it has done some pretty awesome things for me, namely creating and carrying the perfect almost 3 year old that fills our house with her sweetness. But, right now, it is not helping me out, it is not doing what it was designed to do, it is not getting pregnant. So, as much as I hate to say it, I’m angry at my body, angry at myself.
Today I’m heading to the doctor. We’ll talk all about what is going on. We’ll talk about the fact I have been off the pill for 11 months now and actively trying to get pregnant for 9 months and yet still nothing. We’ll talk about the things that may be behind this inability to get pregnant; my ovarian cyst, my endometriosis, my one non-functioning fallopian tube and hopefully we’ll talk about a solution, a way to make my body work. I don’t expect this appointment to end with a magical solution, but I do hope it is the beginning of find some answers.
I expected baby #2 to come along just like baby #1 did, perfectly according to plan. The best laid plans don’t always work out.