Since I first became a preconceptionist about 6 months ago, I had an insatiable thirst for information. What to Expect Before You’re Expecting, Taking Charge of Your Fertility, The Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth, a variety of baby name books and prenatal fitness guides—I’ve read ’em all. After successfully driving myself crazy with the details, I’ve landed in a puddle of exhausted satisfaction staring straight into the face of impending reality. How am I going to actually pull off this baby thing?
No matter how well-prepared I start my week, I’m always exhausted by Tuesday evening. Nevermind that I spend Saturdays scrubbing, sweeping, and weeding. The yard is overgrown and the house is a condemned disaster area before you can say Wednesday. I’m moody as hell—especially during the progesterone-dominant second half of my menstrual cycle. Did I mention that progesterone is THE pregnancy hormone for 9 – 10 months? I have an allergy attack about once per week during pollen season and require a minimal, yet oh-so-critical dose of antidepressants to be a functional human being.
That’s not to minimize the progress I’ve made toward becoming a candidate for motherhood. Since January, I’ve been going to the gym before work five days per week. I weaned myself off of Claritin-D. I only drink one cup of coffee each day. As for my red wine consumption…well, let’s save that for another day. Because today I need that glass of red wine to cope with the stress of my 9 to 5 job and my messy house.
Next on my preconceptionist agenda: schedule a physical/Pap smear and visit a dentist. It’s been 6 years since I’ve had a Pap. I’m going on 1 year, 2 months since my last dental checkup because, really, who has the time?