I haven’t been this excited to get my period since I was 10 and ALL my friends already had theirs and I was still waiting. Its a little odd, as well, since usually in this trying to conceive business, bleeding is not a welcome sight. But since my cycle got all wacked out just as soon as we started getting serious about the babymaking business, I have been on the look-out for the good and the bad. With the arrival of my period 12 days after my suspected ovulation, within 3 days of my usual cycle length, makes me think that everything is probably a-ok, and it was the buying-selling-moving-travelling-sick month of September that screwed everything up.
Tonight we sit down with BFF to talk about donor stuff. In preparation, La and I made a list of stuff to be sure to cover: time commitment, expectations during the insemination times each month, legal understandings around parenting, etc.
It turned into a really, really wonderful conversation. It could sound like I am pressuring La into this baby stuff from the way I talk – but I not, I swear. I am definitely on the more expedited timeline and a little less apprehensive about the process, but we agreed on this timeline and this process and we are both looking forward to making, getating and raising a baby. La tends to go back and forth in the expression of how she feels – she makes us walk through the baby section at Target *everytime* we go, but sometimes when I start talking details she freaks out. Once she explained a little bit about why she has such bi-polar feelings about babies, it all made much more sense and we’ve been more able to find a middle path around planning while still each having our own space to process the experience.
Anyway, last night . . .after talking through our list of donor topics, we ended up talking about what it might look like for me to be pregnant, to have a baby. It was sweet, and it reminded me of the times before we sold a house and bought another and we just dreamed about having babies and being badass parents. Strangely, it was this conversation that actually made everything much more tangible and real to me – and inspired more anxiety than I generally have about it all. A healthy dose of reality (vs. research) is probably a really good thing for me.
When I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, La mumbled something in her sleep. When I said , “what?” she responded with some much more clearly articulated gibberish, and when I asked for clarification one more time, she said “we need to choose a donor for that!” Clearly, this process is getting into both of our heads.