There comes a day when you glance up from brunch and notice that your infant is a toddler. You don’t remember this change happening but it’s demonstrably true, based on the fact that your current baby could eat the newborn version of your baby in a single bite. You then remember that you were planning on having kids in the plural. This is discouraging since you have only just now begun sleeping and wearing pants with zippers. Well, damn.
It’s also around now that you begin to stress out about Trying to Conceive (or “TTC” as it’s known in the business). *Please note that a poor memory is helpful to erase from the mental record the myriad of ways that your first baby ruined your looks and hygiene in a months-long shitstorm before you start “trying” for another one.
Procreation is a dubious goal, really.
Maybe it’s just me, but I’m not particularly eager to return to a time of obsessing over every possible early sign of pregnancy – signs which are uncannily similar to the most ridiculous PMS and shittiest period you have ever had in your life. Mother nature is a real jackass that way. I’m not excited to ask myself “do my boobs really hurt (an early sign of pregnancy), or are they just sore because I’ve been poking at them for two weeks straight to see if they’re sore?”
What in the hell does my basal body temperature have to do with this, again?
Once you decide that you’re going for it come hell, high water, morning sickness, or cankles, you likely turn to the most reliable source of information at your disposal – the Google search – for tips. You are now back in the TTC game, and you’re a rusty player. You need some coaching (unless you’re a Duggar, in which case you need birth control immediately).
I had almost forgotten just how asinine much of the information available to women who are trying to get pregnant really is. Luckily I had to do only one quick search to be reminded!
I was immediately pummeled by a sea of acronyms that are impossible to understand. The pregnancy forums read like A Clockwork Orange and Sweet Valley High decided to procreate. I have no idea why the mom community decided it would be easier to create a language from scratch. We need more new things to try, ladies? Really?
This is what a typical post on a pregnancy board looks like:
DH and I are TTC and have been doing the BD for two months, no results yet! I can’t stand the idea of DTD for another month and getting a BFN! Not sure if I’ll FF or EBF yet – any thoughts ladies? IMHO breast is best, but since I don’t have my LO yet who knows how I’ll feel IRL! TTYL ladies, hope to see some of you on the L&D unit, LOL! It will be amazing to see everyone’s DSs and DDs!!!
I’m not even exaggerating with this. It’s a freaking nightmare. In an earlier post I provided this cheat sheet for the uninitiated. I hope this saves someone out there a little sanity. When I was trying to get pregnant with Nolan I nearly lost mine trying to understand WTF everyone was talking about.
And then there are the “informational” articles. The first gem I found, “6 Ways To Tell You’re Fertile” from The Bump, sounded promising.
It was not.
Please read the excerpts below and notice that exactly none of these are signs that you are fertile.
“It’s time! You’re ready to have a baby. But how do you know if your body is ready to get pregnant? Here are a few simple signs that could mean you’re primed for baby making.”
You keep checking yourself out in the mirror. Damn, you’re lookin’ good. When you’re ovulating, you feel sexier and your partner is more drawn to you too. Some signs of ovulation include fuller lips, dilated pupils and softer skin. (Totally on point. I feel undeniably sexy the ENTIRE time I’m ovulating. I can’t stop checking myself out! It must be my hugely dilated pupils that are turning me and everyone around me on.)
In evaluating the above, it seems to me that maybe The Bump doesn’t know what a “sign” is. But that’s ok, because there is a whole giant internet out there for me to explore for tips on documenting my cervical mucus and its relation to my chances of spawning new life. I’m off to explore this fascinating world a little deeper, unless I get sidetracked by Facebook, in which case I may end up scrolling through 1,000 cat memes instead of preparing my uterus. Wish me luck.