Bitterness abounds, and it’s embarrassing.

A warning – this is a long, rant-filled post. I’m completely indulging in self-pity, and I hope to rid myself of that feeling by the time I’m done. Bear with me. Honestly, I almost don’t want to publish this post. I’m slightly embarrassed by my childlike emotions. Getting them out there, though, might take them right away.

Man, am I pissed off. I’m just – pissed. What was sadness has now channeled into a more thrilling emotion – anger. I’m angry.

Let me preface all of this by stating, again, that I know I don’t have it bad. I really don’t. And I don’t mean to imply that I do. It could be so much worse, and I’m grateful that it’s not. But I can only live in my own world, and experience my own situation. Thinking about how much worse I could have it doesn’t make this situation suck any less.

I’m mad for multiple reasons. I’ll attempt to sort them out.

Reason #1 – this one is a given. I’m pissed I’m not pregnant. Plain and simple. The timing was – impeccable. It couldn’t have been any better. My temps were beautiful. I had “symptoms”. There really should be no reason that this didn’t work. But it didn’t.

Reason #2 – I’m mad that the whole wide world has suddenly come down with a bad case of the pregnancy bug, and I haven’t caught it myself. Horrible thoughts like, “I doubt I’ll be pregnant by the summer” have come creeping into my brain. To be honest, I might have to leave Facebook. At least, I might stop checking it. Every time that I scroll through my news feed I am hit with someone’s baby something. Baby pictures, baby announcements, husbands swooning about their pregnant wives – seriously, I want to throw my phone out the window. I thought I’d be more mature about this, and handle this without excess drama but apparently at the moment I’m incapable of doing so.

Reason #3 (This is the biggest one) – I know I should be forgiven for this, but I am most angry at the fact that I allowed myself to believe, 100%, that I was pregnant. I’m so damn upset with myself for this. Ever since ovulation, I was so sure it happened. So sure, in fact, that I convinced my husband. We set out on our nightly walks, talking about how much vacation time N has, and if he could take off the month of December. Yes, my due date would’ve been Nov.25th. Stupid FF, for even telling me that. He would ask me, “You got a baby in that belly?” And I’d respond with, “I think so!” Stupid, stupid, stupid. It did dawn on me a few times during the TWW that I haven’t yet actually had a positive pregnancy test. Ha, I’d think. Oops. Well, once I started, I couldn’t stop. I was pregnant in my mind, and that’s it. And though I’m ridiculously disappointed, I’m more upset to read my husband’s disappointment on his face. He was so excited. I was so excited. And I convinced him it was happening. I thought my super-ovulation might have even released more than one egg, and we entertained the idea of multiples. We have names picked out (we have for a good year or so), and those names started to be spoken.

There’s a few other, secondary reasons I’m mad. (Gosh, I sound whiny. Oops.)

Last Thursday, in the midst of the end of the TWW craziness, I was asked by another person in my building if I was expecting. Since September, when I started at this school and met a whole bunch of new people, two have asked me if I’m pregnant, and one asked when I would be. Why, why, whyyyy do you have to ask me this?? And here’s the worst part of it – the woman who asked me last week asked because it looked like I was. You know what “you look like you’re pregnant” is code for? You guessed it – “You’re fat.”

Now, this woman is very nice, and I don’t know her from a hole in the wall. I was waiting to pick up my students from lunch and I had my arms crossed. I’m sure my nice little gut was sticking out, and my posture was probably bad. So she looked at my stomach, came over to me and said, “Oh, oh my, are you…are you expecting?” “No..”I replied. “Oh,” she said, “It just looked like you…” Then, realizing her mistake, she started apologizing, and I felt a little bit badly for her, because she has been nice throughout the time I’ve known her. So, I told her we were trying, but no, this is not a pregnancy belly. I’ve just…gained some weight.

Here’s the thing, and I know I’ve mentioned this before, too. I am self-conscious of my weight. I’m mad at myself, disgusted with the fact that I just binged-ate my way through this past weekend and today, and I’m aware that in the past year or so I have formed a nice little gut/butt….and I’m not happy about it. That said, I’m not very overweight. I could stand to lose 10-15 pounds. That’s it. I’m still in the “normal” range of my BMI. I think, though, that people notice that my gut and butt don’t fit the rest of my body. My frame screams that I should be smaller. And I’m not. It’s noticeable. The side view, in my opinion, isn’t pretty. I exercise though, and that’s not a problem. My problem is my food – I eat a LOT. A ton. As much as N, if not more sometimes. And he’s got 45 pounds on me. I emotionally eat. I stressfully eat. I eat when I’m bored. And lately, I’ve been eating when I’m upset and full of anxiety. That’s been, oh I don’t know, the last four weeks. Four months…a year. Two years. Which leads me to my next point.

I’m super-pissed at my body. Why do I have health problems? Why? I have healthy parents, I grew up healthy, what I actually eat is quite healthy, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs, I really barely even drink. I’ve been active all my life, I’ve made good choices. Why, then, in my 20’s, has my immune system decided to do a back flip? I should not have to have a reproductive endocrinologist, a rheumatologist, an endocrinologist, an allergist, etc. I should not have to be sugar-free in order to avoid my lips swelling up like a balloon. I should not have to be punished after eating a cupful of no-sugar added ice cream last night with a face full of lip hives this morning, as I hung my head in shame walking into the gym. For the love of God, just don’t look at my lips. I should not have to make sure my Synthroid goes down with enough water at 5 am every morning to keep my TSH levels at bay. I shouldn’t have to wonder if my positive ANA-titer is going to result in lupus, or rheumatoid arthritis someday. I shouldn’t have to wonder, when a cycle doesn’t work, whether it’s just bad luck this time, or if my endless autoimmune antibodies are at play.

Then again, none of us should have to go through what we go through. I know you’ve contemplated this yourself. I just wrote a giant post that can be summed up in three words – “It’s not fair!” And it’s not. Not at all.

Am I done yet? Yes, almost.

My gym is a brand-new YMCA. When I’m not taking a class, I’m hitting the treadmill. You know what window the treadmills face? The one out into the lobby, where on a Saturday morning there are more babies and toddlers there than adults. And they walk by, and wave, and smile, and parents coo. All while I’m attempting to run off my fat, as my sweat literally (no joke) drips down my arms. Yes, I’m nasty when I exercise.

I’m going to have to face Easter, seeing all my family and N’s family, with not a single good thing to say. I was really hoping to have a good secret. I almost want to hide from the world until I feel better. I haven’t been able to give myself to my family and friends. I’ve always been a good listener, and I like to give advice as well. I like being a part of my family and friends’ worlds. Lately, the only world I’ve been stuck in is my own. I don’t feel like I’ve been a good friend or family member the last few months or so. When I see anyone, honestly, what else is there to talk about? Is there anything else in my life as important and thought-consuming as TTC? No, there isn’t. Nothing else has mattered lately. And I’m not happy about that, either. I used to like my job, and I had other interests. I need to get those back. No one wants to hear me whine again and again, and I don’t feel comfortable doing so. Hence this blog. Sorry to those who get a double dose – on the blog and in real life!

I’m done. Phew.

That was a humungous dose of whiny, “I’m feeling sorry for myself” ranting. I do apologize. I never thought I’d become such a bitter person. I don’t like this new personality trait. I’m going to have to work on it.

And you know what? I do feel better, so thank you. Nothing’s more unpleasant than a whiny, overweight infertile. If I’m going to continue having issues conceiving a child, I might as well look good doing so.

I’m already wishing I didn’t write this post. I feel so much less anger and sadness right now that it’s almost worth deleting. I feel better. I’ve already started the new cycle, after all, and I just need to look ahead. Don’t look back.

Binge eating needs to stop, immediately. I need to count my calories. Work on looking my best, and try to forget about baby stuff. I need to put my bitterness away, at least until next cycle. I need to remind myself why I used to love my job. I need to invest in a hobby that has absolutely nothing to do with pregnancy.

I will learn to love life again, without a child in it. For now.

 

 

Not a happy girl.

13 DPO, and I’m not pregnant. And I’m really upset.

I wasn’t going to post this weekend – whatever the outcome, I was just going to let it sink in before I wrote anything. That’s the problem – it’s not sinking in. I can’t accept this. And I’m also confused.

This is my chart.

I could not have asked for a better looking chart post ovulation. The temps kept climbing and climbing, I had lots of cm all the way through, and I made it through 9 and 10 DPO without spotting, like I did last time. Combine these beautiful temps with our timing, and I really, really thought we had it in the bag. I can’t emphasis enough how stupid I was, to be so sure of something, so convinced this happened that N and I started talking about due dates, and when he would take off work. How we would tell the relatives. Colors of a baby room.

Then, Thursday night (11 DPO), I had a small amount of spotting. Nothing major. I know implantation bleeding can happen as late as 12 DPO, so 11 DPO was certainly possible. I had no AF cramping, no AF signs whatsoever. But I started to panic. Then, yesterday, 12 DPO, after light spotting through the morning, I went to the bathroom at lunch to discover a horrible color – bright red. (Sorry for this TMI) I was upset, but I held it together. I threw in a tampon and finished the day. After I came home, I took out the tampon – no more red. Not even on the tampon. Back to a little spotting. Made it through the rest of the evening with nothing, or very, very light spotting. Did some Googling, it’s even possible to have a little bright red implantation spotting. It’s possible. I continued to hold out hope.

I also want to point out that on the two days I had spotting (the last two), my temp went up .2 each time for a total of a .4 increase. How could I have this spotting with that kind of increase? Hope continued.

This morning, as in 15 minutes ago, I woke up, removed the tampon I threw in overnight just in case, still spotting on it. A little bit of red as well. Very light, nothing major. I’ve got nothing right now at all.

I continue to not have any AF cramps, and I always have AF cramps. My temp continues to be up, though it dropped back .2 today, as you can see on the chart. I can’t officially call anything CD 1, because I need a regular flow for that, and that has not happened yet. But who has three days of implantation spotting this late in the game?

I have tested. I tested Thursday, yesterday, and this morning. All negative. Not even a trace of a second line.

I think it’s over. My body is being so cruel to me, in not giving it to me straight one way or the other. For dragging me through the mud. I still don’t officially, fully have AF. I have no signs of AF. My temps are high. But there is still spotting, still blood, still a little red. And negative tests.

I’m all for continuing to have some hope. It’s not over ’til it’s over, anyway. But at this point, this morning, I can’t do it anymore. I simply can’t. Holding out hope for the last week has caused me physical pain. I haven’t been able to sleep, my stomach’s been a mess. I’ve been nursing bananas and Gas-X. Something similar last time happened to me too, the last week. I’m such a wreck, because I’m so hopeful, yet so worried.

Last night, after being sure I was starting AF, N and I went out to dinner, and I ate and ate. I don’t care about the portions or the fat, I was happy that I craved food again, and could eat something that’s not off the BRAT diet. We went to the mall afterwards, stopped at Yankee Candle, had a PG rated good time smelling all the new scents, and picking out a few new ones for our home. I laughed, I paid attention to N, which I haven’t done since ovulation, basically. I’ve been glued to my phone.

If this cycle really is a bust, my goal for the next cycle will be to truly chill the f out (easier said than done, for me), enjoy life during the TWW, and the weeks leading up to ovulation. Which is basically my whole cycle. Enjoy life. Be with N. We will attempt not to talk too much about babies, but we enjoy it. It makes up hopeful. Hope is something you have to have. I think I just had a little too much of it this time.

That said, I still can’t. believe. it. Is it really over? Really? The way I felt 99% sure this happened, that was all in my head? I still don’t have the low temps or the sustained period to fully believe it. But who am I kidding. All those people out there who have found themselves pregnant in the last few months, and I could’ve sworn I would be joining them. I was so absolutely sure.

I know it’s just a BFN. And I know how many of you have gone through this, times 100. It’s just a negative cycle. I understand that, and I’m not meaning to say it’s the biggest thing in the world. I’ll have kids, I know that. I just completely threw my heart and soul into believing this was the one. I had a couple other people believing it, too. I can’t believe it didn’t happen. I still can’t believe it.

10 DPO, and I’ve gone mad!

It has been three days since my last post, and I feel like it’s been years. Apparently I got used to frequent postings! I wasn’t going to post today, either, but I figured doing a little recap wouldn’t hurt. The reason I haven’t posted is because…

…I’m crazy. Totally insane. I’ve lost my mind, my sanity, I am completely nuts. All thanks to the fun and exciting TWW.

I am 10 DPO. A little cramping (feels like AF cramping, but then, it always has) here and there, hungry constantly (hello, emotional eating), and temps above the cover line. That’s it.

Last cycle, I spotted on 9 and 10 DPO, and got AF on 11 DPO. Hence, you can imagine my excitement at not having any spotting yet. That said, if I did spot, it could be implantation spotting, but since I wouldn’t know for sure, for my sanity I’d just like to not have any spotting, please. The other thing in the back of my mind is that I took B6 pills this round and the non-ovulation round as well, to lengthen the luteal phase. I have heard success of doing this with this pill, so I gave it a whirl. My fear is that my LP has been lengthened, but I’m not pregnant, causing me to wonder for additional days than necessary about why I haven’t spotted yet.

It’s only 10 DPO. I am not testing, yet. However, some people do get positives on 10 DPO. But what if I don’t? I can’t put myself through that. It will have to wait.

Ha – can you see how this post is going? It’s a whole bunch of rambling. While annoying, thank you for allowing me to spill it out, because that is exactly what goes through my head all day, every day. I woke up at 5:00 this morning, took my temp, started Googling. In bed. When I should’ve gone back to sleep for 45 minutes. But I couldn’t! How could I possibly sleep when I am this close to this amazing, life-changing goal?

I’m over-analyzing my chart, I know. However, does it concern you that my post-o temps are so…flat? Where’s the spike, for implantation? Where’s the drop, for implantation? This chart tells me I haven’t implanted anything yet, if I was going to at all. My thermometer is new, it works wonderfully..I’m a big fan. It’s not the thermometer. I’m really stuck at 98.2. If it jumps up, just once, a big jump, I will be thrilled. But I’d rather have it flat than a drop, too. This is torture.

I wasn’t like this last time. Not this bad. Partly because #1 I knew my timing wasn’t great last time, so it was a shot in the dark. #2 I thought it unlikely to happen the first time around, and #3, I had spotting at 9 DPO so it was all over before I could even consider all of this.

There have been so many BFP’s lately, especially with so many of you bloggers, and I just feel like…this could be so nice, to join you. If it doesn’t happen this cycle, I know it will another cycle. I know I’m going to have a child. It’s just…so hard to start all over. To take Clomid again, go through this waiting thing, again. Wait to ovulate, wait out the TWW. I can’t believe I am so close and I could simply be about to start it over again. Or…maybe not. Maybe I have something here. The timing was practically perfect, after all. I just wish these stupid AF-like cramps would go away and stop worrying me.

There’s a lot riding on this cycle, and I’ve really put my everything into it. I’m hoping for a miracle!

6 DPO; “heal”, “soft”, “love”.

I’ve been playing with fire. I’ve been pushing the limits. I’ve been….Googling every little “symptom” I may or may not have. Why? Why would I put myself through this? It’s torture!

It’s torture because I have a few “symptoms” and I didn’t even notice that I’ve been walking around, internally strutting my stuff because in my mind, I’m pregnant.

It’s very dangerous, and I know that. Some days I swear it has to be true, other days (like today) I wake up and think, “What are you doing?” Can’t I focus on something else for two weeks?

Those of you who have been down this road many times before know how foolish I’ve been, and I agree. I had so many months of not ovulating at all. This is only my second time dropping an egg. So yeah, my hopes go way, way up. Especially when I got the timing down very well. The more times I ovulate, I imagine the less I will get my hopes up. I’m trying not to do that, but it is proving impossible.

There’s no going back. I’ve already caused possible future damage, imagining when I will be telling family (Easter is coming up..) and which coworker friends are going to know soon, and even daydreaming of that 8-week ultrasound, to see a healthy little bean. This is all very stupid of me. Very, very stupid.

I’m not even going to mention my little symptoms, because that would give them more credit than I’m sure they deserve. They come and go, anyway. Talk to me in a week, though, and maybe I’ll be singing a different tune. Until then – back to the photo challenge!

I’m a few days behind. Behold, “heal”.

For me, “healing” comes in the form of two specific places; Maine (first picture), and Cape Cod. For those who don’t know this about me, I’m a total sap. Not like a “cry at the movies” kind of sap – but a nature sap. Being certain places in nature makes me listen extra hard for the quiet, peaceful, calmness that in turn makes me feel quiet, peaceful, and calm. I love the smells, the breeze, etc. Whenever I can find myself in a place like this I imagine an internal new-age song playing in my head. In college, being homesick, I frequently imagined walking through an open field with N, taking in the side of a white picket fence and strolling hand in hand. I mean, this nature sap thing runs deep. These particular places are two of my favorites. I try to go to to both at least once a year. My grandfather lives in Maine, and the top picture is off his dock, looking at the lake. At his house, the world is perfectly silent, except for an occasional loon, and we play cards and read until we fall fast asleep with full bellies. It’s my idea of perfection, basically.

The Cape holds many memories, as I went there on vacation every year as a child and teenager. I look forward to having enough money in a few summers to rent my own cottage there for a week, hopefully with children digging in the sand beside me.

Having the opportunity to be in places like this keep me recharged. Whatever might be going on is promptly healed after spending a few days in a place like these. Right now, I’m in need of a recharge. Unfortunately, I won’t be going back to Maine until at least May, and Cape Cod, probably the summer.

Now, onto “soft”. I have a very soft blanket I thought I could mention, but I’d rather take this as an excuse to show off soft, by way of furry.

These puppies of mine are very soft. Sadie’s head is especially soft, but her back isn’t, because she has a few layers of fur. The top layer is a little coarse. Riley’s whole body is soft, as she only has one thin layer of fur. Riley’s picture is not recent, as you can see all the grass behind her. And you can clearly notice the quality! Top picture – iphone. Bottom picture – good camera. Oh well. You get the idea.

Finally, “love”. So many options here, but I’ve decided to go with this one:

My wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Seriously, it was perfect. There’s that nature piece again. I knew I wanted to experience those nature-provided feelings on my wedding day, and it was beautiful. We’ve been married two and a half years, and this trying-for-a-baby thing wouldn’t have even happened had we not fell in love and gotten married. Before children, there will always be the two of us.

“Purple”

Before I get to the photo challenge for the day, let me update on my ovulation chart.

I am still confused. Here is my chart:

Ignore those first 30 days…Clomid 50 mg decided not to work the second time around, so I “stair stepped”. Ignore the three positive OPK’s…it’s really more like two, but it doesn’t matter. The second one was the big one. So here’s my confusion: Fertility Friend confirmed what I always thought to be true – that you ovulate on the day of your low temp, the day before your temp jumps. That’s what I have thought all along, and it looks like many of you have, too. Fertility Friend agrees.

Here’s where the problem comes in. It’s not the OPK’s. I know that they can be somewhat unreliable, and so I’ve taken that with a grain of salt. The issue is my nurse. I had my blood taken on the day of the temp jump (CD 40…though really CD 19). She called me, that day, and said these exact words, “Today’s the day. It looks like you are surging today.” I took that to mean I ovulated that day. I suppose that may not be true but that’s the way I interpreted it. Therefore, she was saying I ovulated the day of my temp jump, not the day before. Maybe my nurse is wrong, and if so, that’s a bit problematic. But she sounded so sure. My count of whatever must have been high.

Does this really matter in the end? Well, not really. But, I was trying to go for a perfect Fertility Friend score. Do you guys know what I’m talking about? Fertility Friend has this pregnancy monitor, and if you have sex three days, two days, and one day before ovulation, plus the day of, and the day after, you get a perfect score. Chances would be “very high” that I would be pregnant. If I ovulated on the day of the temp jump, I would have a perfect score. But with Fertility Friend telling me I ovulated the day of my low temp, I only received a “high” score. Ha. I’m being so picky about it.

That’s just me looking for every little sign that this may actually work.

Now that I’m in the TWW, and loving that I’m finally here, I have paid Google a visit. I swear it didn’t damage me..I’m fine. I did want to know about the insane amount of creamy CM I’ve had since I ovulated. Like, an insane amount. You know, I was just curious. Just…passing the time. NBD. And I found this link. If you are feeling down and frustrated, I don’t recommend looking at this. It checks the most ridiculous of early pregnancy symptoms, and let’s you know how many people have reported those symptoms. I almost wish I didn’t find it. But I did…so…

Regardless of what happened exactly, I ovulated, for sure, and our timing was good. We will see what happens.

Today was one of those days. It’s baby-palooza, let me tell you. All of a sudden, everyone and their mother is pregnant. Someone I work with announced her pregnancy today. I’m very happy for her, and I told her so. But I practically broke in a cold sweat as she said, “I just wanted to let you all know that…” My hands started shaking. Seriously, take it easy!

Then, hours later, we were out at recess, with some other staff members who are not normally out when I am out there. One woman was talking to the newly pregnant coworker, and then she said, “It would be so fun to have a lot of babies around here. Who’s next? Megan?” Really? Seriously? Honest to God. Here we go again. I decided to take the bull by the horns and I said, slightly sarcastically, “Yeah..workin’ on it.” That kept her quiet. I’m trying, okay? I’ve been trying. I needed medical intervention. You just don’t ask those questions!! And while this process has been very frustrating for me, there are so many people who have it so much worse than I do. What if I was really going through the ringer? You don’t know, when you ask a question like that, what people have gone through. That’s why you don’t ask. Oh well, now she knows. She can go and tell everyone if she’d like, I don’t care. I’m trying. I’ve been trying. Right now we can all focus on my coworker. It’s her time in the limelight.

Who knows, maybe I’ll have a huge positive secret to keep in a few weeks, rather than a negative one. That would be pretty nice.

Okay, on to the photo challenge. “Purple” was tougher than I thought it would be. I love purple. It’s one of my favorite colors, and I wear a lot of dark, plum purple. However, taking a picture of one of my shirts wasn’t doing it for me, so I started looking around the house for something purple. This was the best I could do:

Yes, this is a vacuum. But not just any vacuum. It’s brand new – we got it yesterday, using our credit card points. This vacuum is supposed to be top of the line in removing animal fur. This is a big problem in my house. As you can see, we have mostly hardwood floors. Dog fur is everywhere. We do vacuum every weekend but it’s not enough. This is supposed to be really good, so we will see. Either way, it’s purple.

Is this week over yet?

 

Cluck, cluck.

I am such an idiot. More on that in a few minutes.

Thank you for all of the comments and thoughts regarding my funky “maybe” ovulation stick. Unfortunately, I did not have any more digital tests to use, and I was not able to poas that afternoon to be sure.

Then, yesterday morning, this happened:

That is a beautiful sight, is it not? One of my closest friends uses these cheaper, non-digital sticks, and she once told me, “When it’s positive..you’ll know.” She was right. The test line, on the right, showed up before the control line. It literally popped out within 10 seconds. As you can see, the test line is darker than the control line. Hell’s yes.

Also, yesterday, my temp jumped, from 96.9 to 97.5. In addition, I had cramps like NO OTHER. Seriously, it was unreal. It was horribly painful. Let’s talk about this ovulation pain for a minute. No doubt about it – it’s the best pain I’ve felt in a long time. That’s a happy pain, right there. When the pains first started, on Saturday, it was some dull cramping on my right side. “Yes,” I thought, “I’m ovulating!”. Then, Sunday, the cramping continued, becoming slightly more intense. I realized it hadn’t happened yet, and I had that almost-positive stick, which I showed you in the last post. Then, yesterday, after that beautiful stick, a temp jump, and a trip to the doctor’s to get my blood done, I was excited to get this voicemail after work. “Today’s the day!” the nurse said, “You are surging right now.” And my cramping became unreal. It turned into a sharp, stabbing pain, mostly on my right side, but then later, on my left.

So, I was a hot mess yesterday. Anxious, excited, beside myself, basically. I couldn’t even write a post about it. I know I seriously need to chill when I lay an egg, but see, it’s only my second time dropping one, and it’s so exciting!! And I didn’t want to blow the opportunity.

I did not tell N. He did ask if the nurse called, and I said, “Yes, but I thought you didn’t want to know.” He was hemming and hawing and I decided I did not want him to know when exactly I am ovulating, because last time that caused some nerves that I would rather avoid this time around. I said, “What I’ll tell you is that I am going to ovulate this cycle, but I’m not telling you when. I hope you can hold out for the long haul.” I’m a horrible liar and I’m not sure if he saw right through it. But I made him believe I will be ovulating later in the week when, really, it was last night. That said, we’re going to follow the nurse’s orders and try tonight too, but then I’m going to tell him the truth.

So why am I an idiot? Okay, correct me if I’m wrong ladies, and I obviously must be, but I have read in about 5,000 places in the last year that once your temp jumps, you have already ovulated. It doesn’t hurt to try that day, but it’s most likely over. This is why they say charting your BBT is not the best way to pinpoint when you are going to ovulate, but it’s great at telling you after the fact. You know, because once your temp jumps, it’s after the fact. Has anyone else read this besides me? Boy, was I dead wrong. I mean, totally, completely wrong. Here’s the truth (which you all may already know):the day your temp jumps is the day you ovulate. How did I not know that? I thought it was the day before your temp jumps. But no, because I got my positive stick on temp jump day, and the nurse said I was surging on temp jump day, and that’s when I could literally feel my ovary(ies?) burst and release that sucker – that’s the day to do it, people! So, last time I ovulated, I completely missed the boat. I really did.

I have to thank my ovaries (and, no doubt, this double dosage of Clomid) for letting me know days in advance, through cramping, that I was going to ovulate. Without the pain indicators, I might have missed it. Therefore, we tried ever since I had my pain….and the night before that (coincidence). Because I thought I might be ovulating when I first felt the pain, we kept going straight through. So….Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and today. The timing seems exactly right, but I am a little concerned that by having it work out like that, the sperm count may have depleted a bit. He has a healthy count, so hopefully that is not a problem. We definitely covered our bases, I think. I keep over-analyzing it in my head, the timing, but I’m going to just say other than maybe having it too much, the timing looks just right.

My mind has occasionally wandered to that pain in my left ovary. Is it possible I laid two eggs? While all I really want is a healthy pregnancy, the thought of two eggs dropping, and meeting up with two sperms, makes my head spin. Holy crap. I got this idea in my head, besides from the pain, because of a blogger’s post I recently read. (I really want to give this person credit right now, but I clearly read too many blogs, and I can’t remember whose it was! Help?) This blogger was also on Clomid and was being monitored by ultrasound by her RE. Her RE found she had four dominant follicles forming on CD 10, and the RE told her she might want to consider skipping this cycle, because of a high risk of multiples. She was on the fence about it. This left me with a thought. My RE doesn’t do ultrasound check-ups for someone not having an IUI, and said the blood test is good enough. Who knows how many eggs I just dropped? Probably one, maybe two, but what if it was more than that? Double dose of Clomid, double the pain…who knows? I wasn’t monitored. And after that pain in the other ovary I started to wonder. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me, and I’ll find out eventually if I am actually pregnant.

After tonight, the waiting really begins. I’m already breaking all of the rules, by being so.freaking.excited. I think the timing was right, I definitely “super” ovulated…I did all I could. I will not google anything..yet. I’m good right now. I can wait. Meanwhile, I will go to bed crossing all of my fingers and toes that this will actually turn into something for me. Talk about getting your hopes up too soon. What am I doing?? But I can’t help it. I’m clearly still beside myself. Stupid body. I do not release eggs on my own. That really sucks. But Clomid helps (though apparently only every other cycle..) I am counting on Clomid to get me pregnant. Soon.

I’m too excited to even think much about the photo challenge. Tomorrow, when it’s all over, I’ll be back to it.  Besides, yesterday and today was “commute” and “challenge”. I don’t have much for a commute (10 minutes, suckas!) but I’ll give you a challenge. This picture, above, was a challenge. That stick was challenging me to attempt to make a baby. We faced the challenge head on. Here’s hoping for a miracle.

“Illuminate”, with a question

Illuminate. This one is a bit of a hard one. I know what it means, but I wasn’t sure how to illustrate this in my own life. However, I think I’ve found what will do the trick:

Again, crappy quality on my cell phone. I’ll let you know when there’s a picture posted from my good camera, though I’m sure you’ll be able to see the difference. Anyway, here’s my version of “illuminate”. I talked about candles in my post yesterday, so it’s fitting. I love Yankee Candles. This can be blamed on my mother, who has a history of loving Yankee Candles. In fact, she almost burned the house down one time from a candle catching onto a dried flower wreath. My sister and I ran screaming from the house, hiding in the car and crying our eyes out. I was probably 13, my sister was 6. My two parakeets were upstairs in my bedroom and I was sure they’d be dead – screw my parents, save the birds! My father grabbed the fire extinguisher and covered the whole living room in that white powder stuff. Super mess. The fire was out, but every single toy and item in that room had to be taken out on the front lawn and hosed down. No fire department necessary, but I’m sure the neighbors thought we were nuts.

Even after that incident, though, my mother has collected, and burned, Yankee Candles. She must have 20. Now that I am in my own house, I have about 8 or so. I love to burn candles with certain scents for certain seasons, so you can see why Apple Cider is a current hit right now. Yesterday, I burned “Icicles” and “Sparkling Snow” together for a soft, wintery, light scent. I’m all about it. These candles “illuminate” my house on a daily basis, contributing to that “homey”, “cozy” feel I was talking about yesterday.

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Okay, now I have a question for all of you out there. You know, for me, ovulation comes around once every 50-100 days (ha) and it’s so rare that I actually get to have a question regarding my ovulation, but today, I do!

What is your take on this?

This was a few minutes ago. The top, cheaper stick (stupid cheap ones) sure seems to show the test line and the control line as the same. I suppose you could say the test line is slightly lighter, but just barely. The bottom, my last smiley face stick, shows no smiley. One looks positive, the other clearly negative. What do you make of that??

There is something else, too. I had cramping all yesterday. I found that the pain was localized mostly to my right side. Last time I ovulated, it was on my left side! I’ve never been so happy to feel cramps. But they really felt like…ovulation pains. Yesterday morning’s stick was not even close to positive, so I know I didn’t miss it. Today’s looks promising, especially after yesterday’s cramping. But the smiley faces are usually not wrong. My temps are also very low – it all looks perfect! It’s CD 18, so it could actually be happening! But what gives with the stupid OPK’s?

Tomorrow morning I go for a blood test (even though it’ll only be CD 19) to see if I’m ovulating or what. It’ll be nice to have an actual answer. If she says there’s no ovulation in sight I may just scream. I’ll keep you posted.