I failed. I quit. And I'm happy.

**TMI Warning: this post is about fertility. If that makes you uncomfortable, just move on. 

For the last six months I've been doing a clinical study on the effects of aspirin on early gestation. They think that taking a baby aspirin a day will help prevent miscarriage. Basically I took an aspirin/placebo a day and folic acid and used the provided fertility monitor every morning. The reward for becoming pregnant was a small handful of Benjamins followed by more at delivery. Two of my friends have been successful in the study. (As a side-note I found out today when I finished the study that I was indeed taking aspirin.)

Today I finished my last month without becoming pregnant and essentially failed the study. (And I'm just going to say that I know in the scheme of things, six months is nothing. I have good friends and family who have gone years and years without success. It's just where I am now. Please, dear friends, don't hate me for complaining about six months, I really know it's not much.)

I don't like to fail at anything. I know the whole "If at first you don't succeed..." quote is lovely, but I still hate failing. Even worse was reporting to the study---and now to you---that I failed. I don't like not being able to make something happen. I, of all people, know that babies come when they should come (we've done both sides of the spectrum with Claire taking a year, and Kyle was a BIG surprise), but I still don't like it.

So along with failing today, I decided to quit trying for a few months. I hate quitting almost as much as failing, but I couldn't take it anymore.

I have lost three pregnancies and only succeeded in two, so the odds are not in my favor. The first time I was pregnant, I think I was blissfully unaware of things that could go wrong. Boy did that change when I lost that baby at almost 7 weeks. From then on I have become super-aware of doing things (even midwife's tale things) that might cause a problem from pre-conception and on into pregnancy. "Trying" for me means lukewarm showers, no caffeine, no heavy lifting, no ibuprofen, no day/nyquil, no drug other than tylenol, and knowing exactly what cycle day I'm on. It basically takes over my life. I know that there are people who can do this without being obsessive---but I'm  not one of those. I'd love to be the lady who, when asked how far along she is, says "I'm probably about 4 months?" Instead I'm the one who tells you, "21 weeks, 3 days, and he's starting to digest things this week!" Everything about babies takes over my life.(Am I weird? Do you do this too? How do you NOT do it?)

I really want another baby or two or three, but I just can't handle it for another continuous six months or however long it takes. I thought I'd be totally bummed about quitting---But you know what? It feels great! I feel such a burden lifted. I celebrated with a hot shower, a Coke, and ibuprofen (after all, I have a broken rib, and Tylenol wasn't doing much for the swelling) I turned in my monitor (and will have $100 coming in the mail soon, a reward for completing the study), and I feel like a new woman.

So for a few months I'm just going to be me. I'm going to paint my room without worrying about the effect of paint fumes on a fetus. I'm going to take time to actually let my rib heal with proper medication. I'm going to lift things without worrying. I'm even going to diet---or maybe even exercise!

How odd that quitting and failing something so important to me would feel so good? Maybe I'll quit a few more things---or better yet, I'll try more things while leaving open the possibility of failure.