It's been a long year and I'm getting really tired of seeing these words.

I haven't told many people about Kyle and I and our decision to have another baby so soon, but today has been particularly hard and I have to get my feelings out somehow.

In August 2016, we had our beautiful daughter, Ellen. At my 6 week check up, I got my prescription for birth control. That was in early September of last year. I didn't really take my pills on schedule because I felt like we were supposed to have another baby soon. Kyle and I had an at-home date to create our Dream Board and on it, we included "Baby #2???" in our One Year category. We hoped to have another baby by now, or at least be pregnant.

We had a lot of talks concerning whether or not this was the right choice for our family. Kyle was hesitant at first because he knew the great responsibility it would be. Kyle was very sick and not himself when Ellen was born. (That's a story for another day) and he was concerned about adding another baby when we had just added Ellen to our family. After many talks, prayers, and personal study, we decided we would not prevent pregnancy so if a baby comes, it comes.

When we got pregnant with Ellen, it was just over one month between the last day I took a birth control pill and the day we got a positive pregnancy test. I naively thought this would be the case again, that we'd be able to get pregnant fairly easily (at least within 6 months).

For the past 12 months, I've taken too many pregnancy tests to count. I'd test before my period was due, I'd test at different times throughout the day, I'd test with different brands. Regardless of how many tests I took, they all said the same thing;

Not Pregnant.

At first, it was frustrating but I moved on. It had only been one month, or two months, or four months, so we were still fine. Things were normal. Most couples get pregnant within 6 months. I could wait.

March rolled around and I looked up cute ways to announce a second pregnancy for Easter. Then, my period came.
April arrived and I looked up unique announcements for a baby due in January. Then, my period came.
May sparked the beginning of summer and I tried to find a special way to announce our pregnancy around Father's day. Then, my period came.

It was getting harder every month that I saw those two stupid words, or only saw one line on the pregnancy test.

After Ellen's birthday last month, I thought for sure that we would be pregnant. Kyle and I want our children fairly close together and if we were pregnant in August, Ellen would be about 22 months older than her next sibling. As I'm sure you can guess, my period came.

What has been the most frustrating thing is that my cycle has changed too. I used to be pretty regular, every 4 weeks I could expect Aunt Flow to arrive. In April, my period came 5 days early. In May, she was 3 days late. In June, a full week late.

At the end of June, we attended a wedding. In that wedding, Kyle and I both felt very strongly that we were supposed to add more children to our family. I thought it was a sign, until July came.

In July, I decided to call my doctor who delivered Ellen. I explained that my period hadn't come and it was 3 days late. They wanted me to come in for an appointment. I scheduled it, but the next day my period came. So much for the impression we had at the wedding in June. I felt like my body was failing us.

After that, I'd basically given up trying to figure out how long my cycle actually was. Even the app that I was tracking my cycle on had given up on me. It kept asking me if we have diagnosed infertility, if I've experienced a miscarriage, or if we are seeking medical help.

I'm sure you already know much more about me and my body than you wanted to know, but right now I've still got one week before my expected period. The thing is, I don't feel pregnant. I don't feel the fluttering I felt before getting my BFP (Big Fat Positive) with Ellen. I don't have the same symptoms (other than occasional nausea but I'm attributing that to the antibiotic I'm on for a sinus infection).

Maybe next week will bring the news we've been hoping and praying for. Maybe it won't.

I've looked in to possible explanations for our inability to get pregnant as well as ways to boost our chances. One suggestion was to track ovulation. I tried that, it didn't work. Another suggestion was to have sex 3-4 times per week, especially around the fertile window. I have no idea what my fertile window even is these days so that hasn't worked either.

Our next steps? Cry, probably.
Then? Research some more.

I know there are methods in which I can improve our chances by exercising more often, drinking more water, and lowering my BMI. I guess we'll see how that goes and move forward from there. My biggest fear is that if we go to see our doctor and let him know we've been actively trying for 12 months, the first thing he will say is to live a healthier lifestyle then come back to see him in a few months. If so, we will have wasted our time and money. Instead, I'll start that on my own and save myself the tears.

When we got pregnant with Ellen, I was the exact same body type that I am now, and I think I was a little heavier. I worked at a Law Office and I drank Dr Pepper like it was going out of style (because we had a soda machine in the break room). I sort of ate well, but not really. Kyle and I both worked full time so we would usually get dinner on the way home. I didn't exercise regularly other than taking the 2 flights of stairs up to my cubicle.

Now, I'm chasing after a toddler every day. I'm drinking water sometimes and I try to make healthy food choices. Is there room for improvement? Yes. Am I much healthier than I was nearly 2 years ago? Nope.

We'll just have to wait and see what the next few months bring us. Maybe we're not supposed to have another child right now, no matter how desperately we desire to add to our family.

In the mean time, I'll continue working. I'll continue enjoying every minute I have with our sweet Ellen. I'll cherish the time I have with just her and I each day.

Just because I'm not pregnant now doesn't mean I'll never be pregnant again. I know Ellen has younger siblings who are just as anxious to join our family as we are to have them here.

Patience is hard.