On average, it takes a typical couple 6-12 months to conceive. I knew when we were first trying, that there would be cycles that don’t catch. The logical side of me defended every negative pregnancy test, every time that my period would come to initiate a new cycle. This was normal, expected, typical. There wasn’t any cause for alarm. We just needed to be patient for our turn.
But the more emotional part of me still couldn’t help feeling the disappointment and longing after each “failed” cycle. I came to learn that this experience, too, was normal. That despite telling ourselves over and over again that it’s going to take a few months, we can’t help but secretly hope and wish we’ll be one of the “lucky ones” where it happens so effortlessly.
In an effort to reframe,1 I decided to write gratitude lists after each cycle that we didn’t conceive. These cycles are not for nothing. They are renewed opportunities for growth and integration, no matter your internal rhythm or intention to fall pregnant or not.
14 highlights from my (mostly rambling) gratitude lists over 14 cycles of TTC:
I remind myself that every month I don’t fall pregnant is another month to get shit together. To find greater peace and connection with my family. To establish a good rhythm and foundation for home life, including healthy meals and exercise. (August 2022)
I’m thankful I’m learning how to make salads. (September 2022)
Gratitude for another cycle of chance. First and foremost, to prioritize my and Adam’s relationship. (October 2022)
I’m thankful to focus, too, on who I am outside of trying to achieve mom status. If it never happens, I need to maintain optimism for a brilliant life still ahead. (November 2022)
I like the idea of a baby coming into existence with the cleaner energy of 2023. (December 2022)
I’m thankful that for each day I’m not pregnant, we remain our family of three. I know that if we ever do welcome a little one into the family, while the joy will inevitably be there, we will always look back wistfully on those days that used to be and never will be again. (December 2022)
I’m grateful and welcome another cycle to empower me to get even more organized in the business and in my writing. (January 2023)
Asking myself now, constantly, to stay focused on my own flourishing and preparation. To take on all of life’s goals and put things in motion. To stop waiting and embrace a dynamic life now. (April 2023)
Grateful for Mucinex. (May 2023)
I’m looking forward to some rosé. (June 2023)
I’m grateful for my banana and coconut texturizing spray. (June 2023)
So maybe this is all an invitation. To take the time to get the agency’s evolution in order. To get our home renovations underway. To check off some more bucket list life experiences. (June 2023)
Every cycle, I feel we are becoming more and more prepared to welcome a new member to our family. (July 2023)
I feel each cycle I become a better-resourced person to become a parent. More sure in what I believe, more clear in how I want to parent and tend to my home, more grounded in how I want to show up, more stable and deep in my relationships. (August 2023)
Or a show of toxic positivity?! Something I struggle with is discerning whether I’m letting myself truly feel my emotions, or by brute force make myself move on and see the bright side. Just hours after I drafted this I happened to listen to this Bottle Service podcast on birth trauma and how gratitude is weaponized in motherhood. I don’t disagree. We can be all too loose with the “at leasts” and “everything happens for a reason” platitudes. Ultimately, I do see my gratitude lists as helpful coping tool during a time that feels so mysterious in its unknowns; inviting the duality of both disappointment and hope is what has kept me resilient and resourced in this time.