This just in: I got a freakin’ static smiley face on my ovulation predictor thingy! For those well-versed in all things fertility, you know what that means! My understanding, though sometimes I feel like reading those instruction sheets that come with these types of tests are like deciphering hieroglyphics, is that my LH surge has been detected, there’s a big whopping dark blue line on the test screen, and ovulation is mere hours away. Why am I so giddy? Probably has something to do with all of the posts I’ve been reading by people who are online trying desperately to conceive. What can I say? Their enthusiasm is contagious. For me, though, the results are perhaps a bit less exciting.
Though, I did tell Greg this morning after he woke up that we should just “go for it”. (I kind of knew going into this that part of me was going to feel like that. It’s one thing to kind of sort of know around-ish the time you are probably fertile and then to be sort of careful and just see what happens and another to know precisely and to purposely let a month of potential pass you by).
It almost feels like too much control to the point that I’m a little uncomfortable. To be honest, that’s part of the reason I never went back on birth control after having Ruth, besides the fact that I just didn’t like the idea of purposely altering my hormones with a daily pill. After I realized the awesome responsibility in having a child, I knew that if I went back on birth control, I would probably never come off of it again. I had the feeling that I would never be able to fully and confidently say “yes, I’m ready” and make that decision (kind of the same way I’m not able to make the absolute and final decision to say, “no more”. Greg says I’m indecisive. I prefer the term “open-minded”). Better to leave it up to fate, or timing, or biology.
As a disclaimer, this philosophy does have an expiration date. I have always thought that four would be the “perfect” number of children, or at least a nice full family with lots of dynamics and noise (the good kind, though I’m finding out more and more that with the good comes the bad) and that maybe there wouldn’t be so much of the “first child, middle child, youngest child” dynamics that comes with three (though I have heard from someone recently that has four and whose opinion I definitely put stock in that then you just have two middle children). Anyways, after four, I think I would definitely without a doubt be able to call it quits. Also, I’ve told Greg that I feel that I could be “open” to the possibility of another child for the next little while. It’s amazing how fast your age sneaks up on you. I was only 32 when I had Miles. “A lot of people are only just having their first child at this age,” I reassured myself, “I’ve got loads of time to make up my mind.” Though, my menstrual cycle vanished for almost two years after he was born. A few months later, I turned 35. Now I’m wondering, “Where did all the time go?” I’ve recently begun to feel like the window for another is rapidly shrinking. It seems tiny now. I guess that’s why it’s on some level so difficult to purposely watch another month of possibility come and go.
Well, in any case, it’s fun to see a darkened test line on a test of some kind, even if it’s not a pregnancy test. It’s still really interesting to know almost the exact timing of my ovulation. Through all of this, I find myself thinking into the future with Ruth and how excited I am to be able to give her the tools to really understand her own fertility. Though it is, of course, her decision how to go about her body and sexuality, I hope that she has a lot of information and is critical in the things she does and doesn’t do. One of my main goals in parenting is to raise extremely critical and open-minded creative thinkers. Though I (clearly) don’t undervalue intuition and other kinds of understanding that are important for a balanced and deeper human experience. Sometimes you’ve got to go with your gut even when it doesn’t make sense on paper and you can’t explain yourself in words.