I was chatting online today with a coworker about upcoming plans to go out of town for a wedding next week. As I typed out the sentence "This will be wedding one of three for the year. These things usually happen in threes: weddings, babies, divorces,"I suddenly went into panic mode. There are already three babies for this year! If there are already three, then that means we won't have one!
After several minutes of barely maintaining, and managing to keep my short breaths just long enough to not quite qualify as hyperventilating-one does not want to alarm others in the office of their absurd emotional issues after all-I realized this is okay. You see last year, there were only two babies, which meant there is an extra one which could be used this year. Phew! Then I remembered that another friend is due in September. Shit. That makes four babies in this year, using the remaining one from the previous year.
Seriously, I am a reasonably intelligent woman. I can cook a meal, count to 100, pay my bills on time, drive without crashing into others, but this stupid thought took hold of me. I really felt, well, that's it, then. Nothing is going to happen this year. F that. No more OPKs, no more tracking my cycle and when we have intercourse. Yes, sex has officially become intercourse. It's too scheduled and expected to be love making or sex. Sigh.
Just as I began writing this post, it dawned on me that we wouldn't give birth this year, anyway. It's too late, but that doesn't mean we won't get pregnant. Oh, wait! That's right! So it is still a possibility...yes, Anastasia, there could still be a stork in the near future for you!
I sit here and count out the months on my fingers, if we got pregnant in May, we could have the baby in February or March. That would be lovely, a baby born the same month as Husband, or my older sister whom I love dearly. The fantasies of planning the birth, the nursery, how big I would be in September at my friend's wedding which I am a bridesmaid in...all these wonderful and fun images pop into my head. It's hard not to entertain them, they are too enticing. There is trouble in allowing these fantasies to play out too long though. I tend to hold onto them, redirecting every little step in each one, the joy is nearly tangible, re-imagining nursery colors, what it will be like to tell everyone we're pregnant, to finally know we aren't TTC (trying to conceive) anymore, but have actually achieved conception! These thoughts become chains when it's clear each month that I am in fact not pregnant again.
Two days until I'm supposed to start my period. I don't feel any different than I do every month, but I'm hoping this time we're pregnant. I'd love for Husband and I to have one of the three babies for next year.