What to expect when you're addicted

It’s finally become an obsession. I’ll admit it. I’m addicted to TTC and it’s beginning to drive me crazy. DH is very close to calling the men in white coats to come and lock me away. I can’t think about anything else but OPK’s (ovulation prediction kit), checking my temperature, buying more HPT’s (Home pregnancy tests) and cutting back on caffeine.
I ovulated on Monday but didn’t say a word to DH this time. What was I meant to say?
“Care for a BD (baby dance) darling? Aunt Flo has finally left and my basal body temperature is currently sitting at a comfortable 36.21 degrees. I checked my mucous and it’s egg-white and stretchy. What ya say handsome?”
Thankfully, I caught myself just in time before the words spilled from my lips.

My book has arrived!! Started reading my ‘What to expect when you’re expecting’ book today, I found out that 25% of couples fall pregnant in the first month of TTC. Hmmm, DH and I have been trying for 3 months so must read next column. 60% of couples fall pregnant within 6 months of TTC. Yippee!! Surely DH and I will be UTD soon. Loving this statistic. Next column reads that 15% of couples have fertility issues and will surpass the 12 month mark. P’ah! DH and I are healthy and happy. Surely no fertility issues here!

Someone on TTC forum mentions a cheap website for OPK’s, HPT’s and PreSeed. Yippee! I can know feed my bad habit and POAS daily if I need too. I order 50 OPKs, 10 HPT’s and a box of PreSeed. The parcel arrives just in time. I’m CD29 and due to test tomorrow. The following morning, I wake up at 5am, race to the toilet and POAS! I watch the stick like a hawk watching it’s prey. Control line is very visible….. now waiting for the second line to appear. Two minutes passes. Four minutes passes…. It’s now five minutes and no second line appears. My eyes want to well up with tears, but my brain isn’t sending the signal. It’s still asleep. I go back to bed and try to sleep. Then I remember a woman on TTC forum who thought her test was negative and ten minutes later two lines appeared. So I retrieve the test from the bin and keep an eye on it for the next hour. It is now time to shower and get ready for work, and no second line appears. This time my brain is awake and I cry over another negative HPT.

The month of May

AF arrived a few days ago! So it’s a new month and time for a new TTC method. This cycle I’ll be taking my temperature daily, recording my temperature on a chart and checking my cervical mucous. I’ve discovered that by taking your temperature each day you’ll begin to see a pattern forming on your chart. Your body temperature drops before increasing around ovulation time. Also, your cervical mucous is a great indictor of your fertile time.

My boss is sending me to New Zealand. A local tourism board in Nelson and the Marlborough region are going to escort me (and two other tourism industry colleagues) around for a week. Kind show off their fabulous tourism regions so that our companies send them most tourist! Food, wine and fresh NZ air sounds great to me. I leave in a week.

I’m not talking to DH. Actually, I’m thinking of filing for a divorce. DH is a DH(!). He had his end of cricket season presentation last night and I knew he’d have a few drinks. But I wasn’t expecting a near raving lunatic when I picked him up at 10.30pm. Two of his team members had to help him to the car. How can one man get so drunk in four hours? I finally get DH home and he’s acting strange. His eyes are rolling in the back of his head, he’s talking gibberish and he can’t sit still. Oh no!! I’ve seen this look before. No! No! No! Someone has given him drugs!! I stay up with DH most of the night knowing that I should be in bed resting because my flight to NZ is at 11am. Finally at about 4.30am, he falls into a fitful sleep and I struggle to count sleep. But my rage won’t let my head rest. There are so many thoughts running through my mind. Did DH willingly take drugs? Or did someone slip him something? Why would DH do this too me knowing I’m about to leave for a week? How am I going to get to the airport in the morning now? Silence and divorce sound like a nice option at the moment.

The next morning I shower, change, call a cab, grab my bags and leave the apartment without saying goodbye to DH. New Zealand is the perfect escape for the next seven days. I can’t wait to sample the fine Sauvignon blanc and forget Sydney.

I awake up in a cosy B&B in Nelson. It’s below 10 degrees outside and I’m snug as a bug in bed. The next few days pass in a blur. Mostly hotel inspections, food, wine, art exhibit, wine, food and more wine. Then we jump in a helicopter and head up to the Marlborough Sound for an overnight stay, some bushwalking and a cruise back to the mainland. Having fabulous time and cannot believe I’m getting paid to experience this. I’ve totally forgotten about Sydney… Oh and DH!

It’s Friday morning and I’m exhausted and slightly hung-over. Drank one too many wines in Blenheim yesterday. But must get up and face reality as it’s time to head back to Sydney… and DH. As I arrive in Sydney, I switch my phone on and have a message from DH saying he’ll collect me outside Customs. I grab my bags, pass through Customs and head outside to meet DH. However there is no DH. I get another message saying he’s stuck in traffic. Argh!! I’m tired, grumpy and hungry. Wish I could just jump in a taxi and head home. Why o Why did DH have to pick me up? Probably trying to score browning points so I don’t divorce him.
Forty five minutes later and DH appears. The mood in the car is tense. Almost palpable.
I walk though the front door and smell smoke! What the? DH runs past me to the kitchen and rips open the oven door. Out comes a charcoal leg of lamb and deflated vegetables. DH begins to cry and tells me he was trying to fix a lovely dinner for me to come home too. I yell at him for leaving the apartment, leaving the oven on and leaving his common sense at the pub last Sunday!

Fast forward to the end of May and we’re about to move into our very own apartment. An apartment that we now own. Well, the bank owns. But in 10,950 days from now, it’ll be ours.
I can’t wait to turn the spare room into a nursery for our baby.

It’s moving day! I jump out bed and pee on a stick (POAS). It’s testing day. Testing of my patience and testing to see if I’m up the duff. Damn, it’s negative. No time to cry. Must let the removalists in the front door.

The move goes well and everything is moved into place by midday with the help of friends and family. Having a overwhelming sense of achievement. We did it! We are now broke and skint for many years to come!

A few days later, we head back to the rental apartment to clean it out. So many happy moments were made in this apartment. Memories to treasure for years to come. I catch a sob in my throat and begin to scrub the toilet bowl harder. Why is it that you always need to go the toilet after you clean it? I take the rubber gloves off and sit on the toilet. There She is starring at me. The wicked witch has paid me another unwelcome visit. This time I cry for it’s ironic that I’m closing a door to a past life and opening the door to another cycle.

Three blessings in a day?

It’s mid April and I begin to research conception on the internet. It’s fascinating! It’s a bit of a miracle really. How our cells can produce another human being. I find a very useful website and notice it has a forum for just about every parenting topic imaginable. From ‘thinking about trying to conceive’ to ‘toilet training’ to a ‘venting board’. I immediately register on-line and become a member. The site is informative. So informative that I discover there is a 24-48 hours fertile window each cycle that you can conceive! What the? I thought you could get pregnant 21 days out of any cycle! Isn’t that what my sex-ed teacher taught me in school?

Am very disappointed now. DH and I have been exhausting ourselves with humping one another nearly everyday, when technically we should be humping around my ovulation date. How the hell do I know when I ovulate? More research is needed! Back to the forum for more answers.

The next day I’m too distracted to think about my ovulation date. So it’s back to apartment hunting. I’m not having much luck at these open inspections. Am finding faults with each unit I look at. So DH has decided to take the morning off work and come along with me! Yippee!
So we drive up to the Northern Beaches and wait for the first open inspection. We park our car outside the complex and notice how close we are to the beach. Only a 500 metres walk. So far, so good. The realtor arrives and shows us (and 20 other couples) around. The place is fabulous. It’s a bit on the small side but it’s full of potential. The balcony is north facing and is bathed in sunlight. DH and I smile at one another. We’ve found it our apartment! The realtor walks over to us and casually mentions that the unit is already under contract. What the? Why show us through an apartment that is already under contract? DH and I are fuming and walk out in a rage.

We look at a few other apartments but nothing compares to the first apartment we saw that moment. Oh well, it’s not meant to be.

It’s Monday morning. Today is DH’s thirtieth birthday and my period is due. DH gets ready for work and gives me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. I mumble a happy birthday message and go back to sleep.

The realtor representing our dream apartment just phoned. The apartment is back on the market!! Apparently the cooling off period ended with no contracts being exchanged. The realtor asks if we’d like to make the vendor an offer as we seemed keen on the apartment on Saturday. I call DH excitedly and explain the situation. He literally screams at me down the phone to make them an offer. A few phone calls later and the apartment is ours. The vendors have accepted our offer!

After work, I stop in at the chemist and buy a pregnancy test as my period didn’t arrive today as expected. What a story to tell in years to come. The day your father and I purchased our first home, we also discovered we were expecting you!!!
I race home and cover DH with birthday kisses and race to the toilet. I’m hoping to give DH the best gift of all – a positive pregnancy test! I’m so excited I pee all over the place like a puppy. I’m too nervous to read the test results so I make DH go into the bathroom.
I scream at him through the door “Is it one line OR two lines?”.
His reply “What does it mean if it’s two lines?”.
“That means we’re having a baby!!!!”.
“Oh. Sorry babe. It’s only one line.”
Oh well, I guess you can’t celebrate a birthday, buy an apartment and start a family all in the one day.