Here we go again… peeing in a collection cup for the 3rd… 4th… maybe even 5th time this week. Just in case. I’m obsessed.
Maybe this time there will be 2 lines instead of 1. Maybe this time I will get the reward at the end of the wait…
… maybe not. Maybe next time.
This is my current reality. We are back on the trying to conceive band wagon. And it’s addictive. Every day I want to test again, just in case those 2 positive lines show up to tell me what I am hoping for most of all right now, that I’m pregnant.
Every day I fool myself into thinking I am experiencing those early symptoms. The fatigue, nausea, hunger… but apparently it’s just my body taunting me and giving that false hope.
We haven’t been trying long. A few months so far this time. But to make it worse, I have no idea if I am even ovulating at the moment. A combination of an irregular cycle that hasn’t returned in any obvious way since the birth of my daughter, still breastfeeding and mild PCOS. It really does add to the challenge.
Trying could all be in vain right now.
We plan to wean our daughter soon, but that’s a big job when she is still quite dependant on her comfort feeds. She is nearing 18 months and I want to give us the best chance we can of conceiving baby 2, so it’s soon time for my little big girl to let that attachment go.
I am 31. I still want 2 more children (at least depending on the next one my husband always says). I have adored the almost 18 months of mothering my one and only daughter and having so much time to focus on just her, but we are ready to start again.
I hope it isn’t too far away. But for now I will keep testing and hoping for that big fat positive after that dreaded 2 week wait!