Communication

What makes any relationship, business or personal, work? The one key thing that takes the longest to drill into a person's head: communication. I'm not talking a short conversation full of grunts and "yea, whatever"s, but actual back and forth discussion and listening.

Ok, sure, that C word could include the nonverbal, too, but if you aren't on the same wavelength, a wave of the hand meaning a dismissal could be interpreted as a wave of consent. Talking is important.

It was through talking that I realized my husband was absolutely confused about what I meant when I would tell him about the internal events of my 'lady bits'. To me, I was saying "I'm in pain right now, but I would love a round of fun in a few hours." His ears would hear "I am indisposed for another few days." Major confusion, no?

What made things worse was the unpredictable nature of my periods and pms symptoms due to the cysts; yes, I was on the Metformin, and, yes, I was taking regulating birth control pills, but my hormones were somehow that out of whack. There were a few months where I would have a full two weeks of light bleeding, enjoy a short week-long break, then suffer a heavy week long flow. It was maddening.

We both devised, the same day, a way - the same way - to communicate on a much simpler level how I was feeling for the day. Great minds think alike (insert wink here). Our bathroom has a full vanity mirror and a mirror covered medicine cabinet; the medicine cabinet sits on an odd wall, so the mirror is pointless - until now. We have a habit of using dry erase markers to add important notes for the day or week on the vanity mirror, so why not do the same on the awkward side mirror?

The medicine cabinet is now a Mrs.M. status board: a happy, smiling face means I'm good to go, while  a sad, often crying, frowny face means there is a hold on any baby-making practice. Like I said: it's fairly simple. It has cut down on disappointing nights and has made for some fun adult coloring.

Sometimes, it's the little things that make the most impact.

And So It Begins

The last birth control pill has been taken and Aunt Flo has left the building.

We will start slow on our journey to a family; for the moment, we're doing nothing different: no testing, no temping, no change in frequency (I mean, no going out of our way to go at it like bunnies). For this first month, at the very least, we will leave things up to chance - the Metformin and prenatals and healthier diet will be the only things on my mind. We'll see how it goes from here!

Keeping Me Honest

You would think that the desire and dream of having a baby, even if not immediately, would be enough to keep me honest on this diet business. I admit that, while it is a strong motivator, it sometimes isn't enough.

Isn't enough? Am I crazy? Of course not, but knowing that I still have a few weeks before I have to be on the strictly baby-conscious menu, I know that it won't be the end of the world if I cheat and have a coffee or a bowl of ice cream piled high with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Yea, the side effects of the Metformin help curb most of those cravings, but there are times that I can psych myself up and, knowing what's coming, power through and devour the food I want.

This past week, I wondered if I had made a mistake in letting slip to the barista at the company cafeteria the journey that I am starting on. I walked away kicking myself as I sipped down the last mocha frappuccino I told her I would buy for awhile. I never intended to tell anyone I know personally or professionally about trying to conceive.

A few days later, I found that it was a good decision. I had been having a relatively bad morning and found myself making crazy excuses for why I should be allowed to have another frappuccino, complete with a few extra espresso shots and about three or four Ghirardelli dark chocolate squares blended inside (trust me, this is heaven in a cup!). Instead of acquiescing, she smiled and jokingly scolded me, "Now, now, we're not having that; we're trying to have a baby." She then suggested a handful of options that I might like, none of which contained a lot of sugar, any dairy, or caffeine. She had even told the other baristas that I was limited on menu items. She said she did it to help keep me honest and hoped I wasn't mad.

I can't be mad, even if I wanted to be; she did it to help me and it is help that I most certainly will be needing. I know it can take a village to rear a child, but who would have guessed that it would take a village to prepare to try conceiving?