Are we there yet?

Trying to get pregnant is alot like taking a really, really long car ride.

When you first get the car loaded and are on the way, everyone is abuzz with excitement over the prospect of visiting the new locale, imagining what the condo will look like, what attractions and restaurants will be nearby.

Even a couple hours into the drive, though road-weary and a little bored, one can still summon up a little enthusiasm. There have only been 1 or 2 pit stops thus far.

However, there comes a point when you've listened to the same 5 CDs you brought three times each, you've dusted off 2 bags of Doritos, you've made 6 rest-area stops, none of which had an even remotely sanitary toilet, and you realize you should have just depleted the savings account and flown because it would be a hellava lot better than being stuck in a vehicle until the end of time.

This about sums up my experience in the joy ride of conception. The first couple months it was "Ooooo boy, no 'protection.'" It doesn't take too long for that excitement to wear thin. Actually it doesn't take too long for all the excitement associated with baby-making to wear thin, or fall off all together.

D and I both enjoy reading in bed prior to falling asleep, and sex really interferes with that routine. Many times I think, "Maybe we can put off the deed for a half-hour or so because I'd really like to get through the next chapter in my book." Fortunately for him, I shower at night so while I'm cleaning up, he gets to read for a bit. I am left with trying to read while laying absolutely flat in the hopes that his little guys have decent ovum tracking systems in place.

We got pregnant the first month with N, so D acknowledged that he hoped it would take longer this time so he could "enjoy the practice" more than he had the first go round. Lately I suspect he's ready for nature to get on with it because he is, quite frankly, a little bored and a little exhausted.

I'm not as exhausted as I am bored by the whole thing. Part of me feels like, "Oh why bother...it's not gonna happen this month. Just think how far I could get in my book," but I'm still type A enough to not want to slack off. If I have to go to my doctor after a year of not getting pregnant, I want to at least be able to say I put forth some really good effort.

And, dumb me, made the stupid mistake of acknowledging to others that we are trying. Why in god's name did I open the door for such unspoken "pressure?" Even if my friends aren't asking me, they are wondering, suspecting, hoping, dreading?

Last week while in the tub, N looked up at me and said, "Momma, do you have a baby in your belly?" As much as I'd like to say yes, I, of course, had to answer with a no. She said, "I have a baby in my belly, and she is 2 years old." I'm feeling pressure from my kid, who doesn't even know her dad and I are trying to give her a sibling.

Last night she said her dollhouse mommy has a baby in her belly. Jesus, everyone's having an easier time getting pregnant than me!

Oh well. I look at N, and she is such a wonderful kid. Just an easy kid...good temperament over all. Maybe there is something to the saying, "god doesn't give you anymore than you can handle?"