All of the team here at RMF have obviously been through the myriad of emotions that come with deciding to start a family and, my gosh, there are a lot. However, for most us that was a few years back now and we thought it would be good to hear from someone who is currently going through this with all the thoughts, worries and hoping that throws up. Step forward our lovely reader Sophie.

Hi RMF. I commented on Charlotte’s ‘Ask me anything’ post requesting more content from those in the ‘deciding to have a baby and starting to conceive’ stage of life before deciding to follow the old rule that you only get out what you put in and rather than expecting someone else to write about the experience I am going through, I’d do it myself, in the hope it would generate comments and discussion to help me in a way someone else’s post would.

My husband and I got married a year ago after nearly 10 years together. We have always spoken about our desire to have a family and over the years I may have uttered the phrase “if you bloody well hurry up and propose we can get married and then get on to babies”. Anyway, turns out he was absolutely right to wait and propose when he did, we had the wedding of our dreams and then, NOW we could start trying for babies. I was so excited – and so ready – but I was also anxious that I was behind schedule (per the life plan I made aged 11) as I always envisaged myself having children in my mid to late 20s and at this point, I was 3 months away from my 30th birthday.

My pill packet ended and that was it, we were trying. We didn’t really have a big discussion about it; we’ve talked about our desire for children for so long, we’ve never been more in love, we own our house, we’re financially secure (ish – I mean, my credit card balance could possibly be slightly lower if you’re going to be super critical) and I am a great believer that one day, despite never buying a ticket, I will win the lottery. And not the UK lottery, the Euromillions where the jackpot is over £100m. Anyway, everyone always says there is never the perfect time to start a family.

What I absolutely didn’t expect is all the ‘what ifs’ and thoughts that rushed into my head the first time we didn’t use contraception. What if we couldn’t conceive? What if I got pregnant and we lost the baby, how would we cope? What if we had a baby and it was unwell? To the complete ridiculous – what if we had an ugly baby and I knew everyone was just pretending it was cute? (the fact my Father pointed out in his speech at our wedding that all parents think their baby is pretty but facts are, some just aren’t has got me paranoid!) What if they didn’t love horses? Oh god, I’m not going to be a cool mum, I’m not skinny enough or generally cool enough. Oh god, I absolutely should have changed jobs when I thought about it a year ago because now I can’t because what if I fall pregnant and am not eligible for maternity pay (this is a biggy). You get the gist.

Whilst all these weird and wonderful thoughts were bouncing around I also wanted to make sure that getting pregnant wouldn’t take over my life. I didn’t want to use apps, take my temperature every day, research obsessively, just (as my Aunt so succinctly put it) sh*g as much as poss. It sounds so easy but turns out it isn’t when my husband and I work long hours with one of us often getting home from the office post-11pm and me getting up really early every morning to muck out 3 horses before work – it doesn’t leave much overlap for both being conscious at the same time and it’s something I really struggle with. I hate that at times (and it’s been really bad recently) our work/life balance can be so poor that Mon-Fri it’s likely we won’t see each other awake.

Considering my excited yet non-obsessive approach to getting pregnant I have been completely floored with the crashing disappointment when my period arrives – and the difficulty of telling my husband that I have my period (though yay for regular periods post-pill), and the inexplicable frustration over people publicising their pregnancies from a very early stage all over Facebook. I am (wo)man enough to admit that the frustration is probably grounded in jealousy and I don’t like that feeling at all.

We have only been trying for four months (that’s nothing I hear you cry!) and I know I need to just be patient but why, WHY, is there no grey area when it comes to pregnancy? I have spent years desperately trying not to get pregnant, but now there’s nothing I want more than to get pregnant. Part of me feels guilty for being so self-absorbed when I have dear friends who have gone through the unimaginable and had their babies pass away, found out they’re infertile, or just generally been trying to conceive for far longer than four measly months. And this guilt means I don’t talk to anyone about it; that and the fact I don’t want it widely known that we are trying so people don’t feel they can ask “are you pregnant yet?” (if I am drinking my body weight in wine, then no, I am not).

I think I now want to feel a bit more in control of it all and last week I bought a box of Boots ovulation sticks just to be doing something proactive. I guess the reason I requested more coverage on this topic was to find out whether I am the only one in this particular bizarre emotion-filled boat? I really hope not.

In fact, you know what? I may not even be the only one who accidentally used one of her husband’s favourite mugs when the instructions on said Boots ovulation sticks called for a ‘small container to urinate in to’. Or the only one who can’t understand the bloody things; am I ovulating or not?! Or the only one who hasn’t adjusted their life plan post-11 years old.