When it’s not just about the conceiving…

Over the past year I’ve been the creepy person reading TTC blogs and either a) being completely overwhelmed by the acronyms (It’s like a secret, special, clubhouse language) b) scared shitless by the procedures and c) so impressed by the support and community.

What’s interesting is that for the most part the posts are about the female equation of the partnership (or I should specify, the lady in question trying to get pregnant, for all my LGBTQ peeps). Oh the man/partner is mentioned, enters and exits briefly via stage right, but the star of the show, the “piece of resistance” (Lego movie, how I adore thee) is… well… us.

Oh I get why. I mean, PapaBean and I have only just graduated from year 1 of TTC and already the tests, procedures, tracking all lay for the most part on moi. We fit the typical pattern that the “problem” seems to be more me than with him. Biologically.

Except. We’re also struggling with his very low sex drive and potentially ED difficulties. Whereas other couples can just decide at the drop of a hat to have sex, it’s never like that for us. It’s a whole endeavour that doesn’t always “work”. Prior to TTC, I was (am) a firm believer that sex doesn’t have to be intercourse and a healthy sexual relationship can look like many things and evolve with time. But. If we want to do this thing the natural way, some of his swimming friends need to actually make it in. Sadly for us, conception does not occur by osmosis.

Now I’m struggling not to pressure him for intercourse, to not get upset at the utter WASTE of his swimming sperms when our “love time” results in non-penetration. We’ve talked about it, but of course PapaBean also struggles with generalized anxiety, so I have to be careful how I approach topics so as not to stress him out. (Ok, it sounds like we have shitty communication skills, but honestly this is the only area where we struggle communication wise). I recognize that even when sex can happen at the drop of the hat it becomes a “chore” and stressful- but at least it CAN happen that easily.

We’re moving towards him feeling comfortable discussing this with our family doc, (or my Naturopath at least), but again I want to be supportive without being bossy. I want him to feel comfortable sharing this when he’s ready.

I’m insanely jealous of those couples who can look at their temp/cervical mucous calendar and go “gee, we should have sex RIGHT NOW” and it happens. It would be like living in a world of unicorns and rainbows…

The Secrecy Around Trying to Conceive

I’m having a definite love-hate relationship with conception secrecy, privacy and community.

I’ve noticed that for the most part women don’t announce or share when they’re trying to conceive. Over the years I’ve heard of elaborate lengths women have gone to hide the fact that they are “trying”. And sadly, for good reason.

I’m from a miniscule, microscopic Canadian village where everyone knows everyone, no one locks their doors and baby (wedding, house) showers are stupendously giving. For a woman trying to conceive, this can be a recipe for awkwardness (and rumours). I’ve been privy (and I will admit, have participated) in so many whispered gossiping that my husband and I made the decision to keep our baby making adventure a secret.

A year later with no success and I’m so glad we did.

There is without a doubt no way I want to be the topic of the condescending, patronizing gossip of “Did you hear? Poor things’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now” “Are they still trying? Oh that is so sad, she must be so upset”, insert pitying glances/thoughts.

So Top Secret Status it is.

But as the months (and now year…) go on, pressure from the in-laws is increasing, and reasons why we’re “waiting” to have children get more dubious. I’m feeling angry and alone with no one to talk to, with no supporting community who “gets” this surprisingly difficult and, I’m embarrassed to say, all consuming part of my (our) life.

And so… la raison d’être for this blog, this “MamanBean” secret identity: a compromise with anonymity and the search for a feeling of support and community. Hears to hoping.