Has officially begun, or at least rather, I think it has begun.

My 4th month of trying naturally after my last surgery. My 4th month of trying with only one fallopian tube. My 4th month of trying with no scarring in my uterus and with the septum finally removed. My 2nd month of being the rebellious fertility patient. I think I’m going to have to end the rebellion though. Trying to conceive has gotten scary now that my biological clock is slamming away in my ears. I don’t think I have the kind of time I did when I was 30 to be messing about here.

Firstly, this has been the longest its taken me to fall pregnant EVER. Four months of trying, and let me tell you, for those of you who haven’t battled infertility, trying is hard. Trying stops being fun about 6 months into trying to conceive, I’m 6 years in, we’ve been trying for about 72 FREAKING months now, trying is no longer fun, its hard work that takes precise planning and excellent timing and its gotten harder.

Its gotten harder now that I only have one fallopian tube, its gotten harder now that we’ve discovered my hostile CM, something which still leaves me scratching my head, I mean did I always have it? And if I did always have HCM, then how come getting pregnant was so easy before? How come its gotten so difficult now? And if I didn’t have it previously, what has caused me to have it now, because whatever it is, I will stop it right now so that I can have regular EWCM again! This HCM is a real mood killer, I mean, not only now do I have to make sure we have intercourse over my fertile days, but I have to time it down to the hour, because I have the added bonus of now having to douche exactly 3 hours before we have sex to ensure that my CM does not kill off the poor sperm trying to get to my egg. Its such fun! (note the sarcasm) Andits like I’ve developed some kind of mental block against it, I keep forgetting! Last night, while my husbandtried to ease his conscious me taking me out for dinner (I’ll explain this in a later paragraph), I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to douche when I got home from work. This meant that the rest of the evening was ruined because all I could think about was getting home so that I could douche. Eventually managed to get it done at around 20h00 which meant that we would have to stay awake until 11h00 to have sex, did I mention I love to sleep? This was never going to happen, so instead we had to get up at the crack of dawn this morning to do the deed. Do you know how much fun that is? Your eyes haven’t even opened yet, you both strain your necks in an attempt to not blow morning breath on each other while attempting to have sex in the pitch dark and with a dog sitting at the end of the bed staring at you? My Chyna, my baby that is incredibly protective of me, does not like it when she see’s her daddy doing stuff like that to her mommy.

The other problem of course is, withbeing the fertility rebel, I’ve refused to go to my clinic for monitoring scans for the past 2 months, so we don’t actually know when I ovulate, which means that its kind of a hit andmiss. There are a large number of websites that claim to assist with ovulation calendars. So now here in lies the problem. Each one of them varies slightly, my cycles also vary slighty, between 28 & 29 days. This means that, we started doing it every 24 hours since last week Friday andcan only stop tomorrow. This gets really exhausting, it also means that my husband and I have to be nice to each other constantly, for fear of pissing each other off and not being in the mood to have sex for one of the fertile days because then if no pregnancy results from this attempt I’m going to convince myself that its because we didn’t do it on that one specific day. So, Monday night was a classic example of what NOT to do during your fertile period. W and I were play fighting over who was going to bring the dogs in and settle them for the night, I should mention now that we’re a pretty childish couple, anyway, the playful pushing and shoving andslapping went a bit too far when my husband pretended like he was going to give me a back hand on the arm at the precise moment that I chose to bendforward to grab him around the waste. I landed up receiving the full force of his knuckled backhand on my nose. The shock of it almost caused me to wet myself, and then when I wiped my nose andsaw the blood pouring out of it I started to cry. My husband in turn also got all tearful at this point, but it instantly killed the “lets have sex” mood.

The long and the short of the story is that I don’t think I’m a rebel, I was never designed to be a rebel and trying to be a rebel is turning out to be far too much work. I think my next cycle, I will quietly just reappear at my clinic and let them monitor me and do whatever else needs to be done so that we can try and avoid all this hard work.

It’s kind of ironic that the by line for my blog is the ramblings of a tired infertile, because when I read back on this post I realized just how much rambling, obsessive, compulsive shit is going through my mind. 🙂