Ambivalent

When I went to the endocrinologist in August, she congratulated me on the progress I’d made, and said that as far as she was concerned, I could start trying to get pregnant. I explained that I wanted to lose a little more weight and we left it at that. When I went to the endocrinologist last week, she flat out encouraged me to start trying to conceive again. I’m trying too hard to be perfect, she said, and I’m not getting any younger.

Well, yes, I know I’m not getting any younger, thank you very much. But it did get me to thinking…is my perfectionism (a known flaw of mine) getting in the way of something I want so very badly? I’ve lost 34 pounds so far. No, I’m not down to my perfect weight, or even my goal weight, but I am so much healthier than I was. Am I healthy enough now? If my doctor says that I am, well, that kind of means that I am, doesn’t it?

Or do I have other reasons for waiting that have nothing to do with my perfectionist tendencies? Let's not forget that this is the doctor who didn't believe I could lose as much as I already have. Maybe she thinks I'll never get to my goal weight. Plus, I read a study that says that every extra pound you carry when you are pregnant is more likely to make a diabetic pregnancy high risk, even for women with a normal BMI. So that would seem to indicate that maybe I should try to lose more weight, because every pound closer to my perfect weight means a healthier pregnancy. Let’s face it – I don’t just want to get pregnant here. I want to have a healthy baby.

And then there’s the infertility factor. Back when we first started trying, I looked around at my pregnant friends, and I could imagine being like them one day. That my turn would come, and I’d be the one feeling the baby kick, picking out paint for a nursery, and emanating that quiet introspective steadiness they all seemed to develop at one point or another. Somewhere along the way I lost that. I can no longer picture myself pregnant. There’s a part of me that is convinced that it isn’t going to happen for me, ever. I guess holding off and waiting to try again is a sort of self defense mechanism. We can’t fail if we don’t try. Our life is fine the way it is.

But then I see get together with one of my friends and see the joy they take in their children, and see what neat people their children are. I read Neil Gaiman’s recent post on his daughter’s scribbling on a white board in their house and see the tangle of pride and enjoyment and love he has with her. Or I read Chris’s thoughts on how his family has become the most important part of his life, and I think, yes, I really do want that.

It’s time to try again.