Me, me, me, him?

The whole infertility thing feels very weird right now. By the nature of the thing, most of the focus was on me. Am I ovulating, are my tubes open, other reasons why I might not be pregnant. Plus, for two years, I was the one to track my cycles – taking my temp right when I woke up every day, so that I could see when I ovulated. Peeing on a stick to get a day’s heads up that I would ovulate. Initiating sex even if I was exhausted or depressed, so that we could time things right, listening to my body’s symptoms. Getting the monthly physical announcement that I wasn’t pregnant.

Two years is a long time to do this, emotionally speaking. This has been about me and my body, so of course I assumed that it was something wrong with me that was causing the problem. This was seemingly confirmed by the good test results Chris got earlier this year (good number of sperm, shaped fine, moving, etc). Hearing that the problem is from his side rather than mine is a bit of a shock. I feel a little relieved that it isn’t me, but I also feel bad for thinking that.