TTC: An acronym I have become familiar with quite well. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, TTC means ‘trying to conceive’. As a little girl, I had a picture of my future adult self. I saw myself dressed in a beautiful Ankara blouse and skirt, with a scarf loosely tied around my natural hair. On my lower right leg clung my young toddler as I prepared dinner for my husband. Clearly, that picture morphed over time to include dreams of greatness in other spheres of my life, but the core of that picture (family) never changed.
When I got married at the age of 28, I was ready to start the baby making process. I was also certain that I would get pregnant the first time we tried. I had great examples of this ‘fact’ from referring to my very fertile mother, cousins and sisters. The first month we tried, no luck. I told myself that the ‘engine’ was clearly rusty from a lack of use and took it as a warmup. The second month, same thing. Third month, sixth month, ninth month and I began to feel the despair set in. As the months rolled by, I clung on to hope and to my faith. I prayed, declared, fasted, cried, pleaded and now at age 32, another month has rolled by and nothing.
Amid my inner turmoil, outside pressure sets in. People begin to ask questions both directly and subtly, offer suggestions, send across prayer links, and share abundant pregnancy announcements to perhaps encourage me to start the baby making process. But I am simply weary.
It's Fifi 