Months 1-9: [in which Sarah spends approximately ALL of her savings on home pregnancy tests]

As seen on TV here, my husband C and I tried for about nine months to get pregnant on our own before ahem, seeking some assistance. During those nine months, I learned some valuable lessons. Most importantly, if you ain’t runnin’ wit it, run from it ovulating, you (probably) ain’t getting pregnant.

That’s right. I lived what previously would have been basically my own personal fantasy: NINE WHOLE MONTHS WITHOUT A PERIOD (do not confuse this with nine months in which I was cooking a baby. Cause I wasn’t. See supra. And infra. Okay fine, just see thisentireblogsofar.)

And yet, I pressed on! Somehow able to suspend disbelief, to continue “trying” on some nonsense schedule that made sense only until spoken out loud in the presence of a sane, rational human (cue C’s entrance). Not only that, but I also TOOK PREGNANCY TESTS. Like. A lot of them. 

Oh, the naiveté (chuckles menacingly). Seriously, what on god’s green earth was I thinking? Was I completely and utterly bonkers (that was rhetorical)?

If you think I’m kidding: In the midst of this nine month odyssey, for example[1], I remember two Sunday nights in a row where I felt “nauseous.” And “especially tired.” Why? Because I have a chronic illness that creates mayhem in my stomach and bowels basically on a regular basis [2] AND I was doing two trials back to back, naturally, I must be pregnant! At which point I casually dropped a cool sixty bucks on pregnancy tests (and, let's be honest, assorted other purchases because if I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, who buys JUST a pregnancy test?) over the course of that little “scare.”

But the truth was, I was never getting pregnant on my own.  Of course, I couldn’t just be told this and spared the adventure of finding out. It’s no problem though. Because lying on a table in half of a skirt suit while a woman you JUST MET fills your uterus with iodine dye and then SHOWS YOU YOUR FALLOPIAN TUBES on a giant 3D screen (for some reason, honey I shrunk the kids was all that came to mind in that moment, specifically, the giant ant. I know, it doesn’t make sense to me either) is both painful and emotionally scarring AND I may have ruined a good suit a much better way to find out.

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[1] And by that I mean, here is literally just one example. But I promise there are many, many others.

[2] If you’re playing at home and guessed Crohn’s disease, you’d be correct! And no, that’s not the cause of my infertility. Promise. We triple-checked.