Day 13. Morale is low. It is only 8:00 and I am already filled with anxiety for my impending fertility appointment in one hour. When you are trying to conceive with the help of Chlomid or Fumera, or the other two handfuls of possible fertility medications, Day 13 of your cycle is suddenly very important. Day 13 becomes a city in the dry Plains that either offers freshwater or false hope for the journey ahead. It is on Day 13 that the OB will look for follicles, measure them and send you on your way with instructions about when and if you should have intercourse. Like I said, Day 13…

In my first month on hormone stimulating medication, I became a wild woman. There were hot sweats, cold sweats and a ferocious need to cry. I stayed in a darkened room for three whole days. It was impossible to raise my head from my pillow, to look into the light, to speak to my daughter. My husband filled my void with a giant fort in the basement and freezer pizza. He laid icepacks on my forehead that brought only temporary relief. He kept the lights off when he checked on me. He brought me Tylenol and cold water in a giant mason jar. There should be metals to reward men…

There is a negative pregnancy test sitting on the top of my bathroom trash. Normally, I like to push them to the bottom– to forget about them, to hide them, to keep them from being a reality. But this month, too exhausted and too disheartened, I leave it there. It will go out with the rest of the trash Sean collects on Thursday. I know I shouldn’t leave my pain for him to sweep away, but I do anyway. He wants to know how to be there for me, but he doesn’t realize he already is. All of the little things I once seemed so able to do, he does…

I have become a greedy child on Christmas morning waiting for any sign of early pregnancy. Bloating, exhaustion, whatever it might be I will not be picky. Please let me puke this morning, please let me puke. I hastily check the fertility tracking app on my phone several times a day as if it could possibly know something I do not; as if artificial intelligence could predict what doctors cannot explain. When you are battling Infertility desperation becomes a new part of your human nature. I had to turn off my social media this Saturday. Too many babies and pregnant bellies. I am not unhappy or bitter for these people,…

“Are you here for the prenatal class?” she asks, quickly looking into my eyes, in a hurry. I wasn’t. I let the painful reminder sink to my gut before quietly answering, “no.” Looking down at my belly, she smiles, “Oh, of course not.” Then quickly walks away, leaving her words buzzing through my head. Of course not. Through hazy eyes, I find the correct room I was looking for, Continuing Yoga. *** Earlier that day, I had called my Fertility Doctor with a simple question. The woman who answered the phone quipped, “Are you a pregnant patient?” I wasn’t. I paused. She couldn’t have known my backstory. I was just…