Today, my period ended, and my anxiety about an impending ovulation is steadily reaching its peak. I’m trying hard to keep my body in balance any my routine in check; I don’t want to throw off my cycle yet again. As we all know, the more we think about it, the less it seems to pay off for us. Such a double edged sword.
I decided I’m going to start testing for ovulation tomorrow. It’s pretty early, but I don’t want to miss my window simply because I didn’t think I wouldn’t be a rare instance of immediate ovulation following Provera. I am going to be using my oral ovulation predictor for the first time (since I haven’t ovulated since purchasing it). I’ll also use traditional OPK tests just in case.
I’m also in the process of preparing my husband for some serious sexing. In the last two months, we haven’t had much sex due to work, travel, & illness. Now, we are about to go from zero to 100mph. Frankly, I need to get myself ready, too! Maybe some yoga or something to get my body (semi) limber; nothing is worse than getting muscle cramps in the middle of sex. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!! Let’s just hope I don’t pull a muscle during this prep phase. 😂
Here’s to hoping for that egg!
Have you ever seen the (in)famous Spielberg film named Carrie? Perhaps maybe the clip where the blood gets dumped on Carrie while at prom? If so, that’s exactly what’s going on in my pants right now.
That’s right; Provera worked it’s first round of magic. Prior to last night (when my period started), it had been six weeks since my last period. I’m not sure what happened in the inside of my body in those six weeks, but I feel like I’m in the process of birthing my uterus. Today, I set a personal record for the amount of tampons bled through, liners turned useless, and underwear ruined.
As I try and relax my body’s cramps, I can feel flutters of excitement growing inside. The anticipation of Provera helping me ovulate and regulate on my own again, like it has every time before. The excitement that sometime soon, I’ll experience the overwhelming joy of my first positive pregnancy test. The hope that in another six weeks, maybe, just maybe, I can start looking forward to feeling the flutters of a life growing inside of me.
We’ve all been here, far too many times. Some of you may even be in it currently, like myself. The place where jealousy quickly rises in a moments notice, leaving your hopes of parenthood shaken.
For those who have been following me since at least this summer are aware that my husband’s only (and younger, might I add) brother and his wife had their first child, two days before their first wedding anniversary. In fact, a year exactly from being married, they left the hospital with a baby in tow. She got pregnant four months into their marriage, with little effort. However, she does have PCOS and attributes her pregnancy to metformin (in case that is helpful to any of my readers).
Well, from the Spring baby announcement to the current flood of photos on every social media outlet, I can’t get away. Their child is beautiful; she’s a mirror of her father which is a wonderful yet funny thing. But some days, days like today, I can’t appreciate her for everything she is.
It’s not the baby though. It’s the parents, the mom, the underlying issues that won’t be delved into. Then, there’s the salt in the wound of them having a child so soon, while we have struggled for two years without a single positive pregnancy test. Days like today make these experiences a bit more difficult to bear.
Tomorrow will be better. I’ll make sure of it.
I’ve been contemplating whether or not to go public with our struggle with infertility. Of course in this day and age, “going public” means Facebook. I’m thinking of going public for one reason: to shed light on an issue that is so often demonized, and demonizing.
A woman who does not reproduce, either by choice or otherwise, is often chased by society’s insatiable appetite to ask “when will you have kids”, and the looks of sorrow and anguish when you say “in time.” Or “When I’m ready.” Or “I don’t want to have children of my own.” Or “I can’t.” As if the experience of choosing or delaying parenthood is not dramatic and isolating enough.
Part of me can’t help but fall for the trend. The trend of letting it all out in the hopes of reducing the unnecessary stigma we often feel necessary to assign to life’s tribulations.
Going public is definitely something weighing heavily on my heart, and gradually pushing me towards an announcement; all in an effort to save the dwindling sanity I have in this isolating struggle. In the meantime, I’m going to try and focus on the million other things on my plate.
I popped my last Provera on Tuesday, and now we anxiously wait for my period to arrive. I’m praying that in this time, I will have my period, ovulate on my own, and by end of November can tell my family that we are finally expecting.
In the meantime, I’ve spent a few nights drinking copious amounts of wine with immensely good food and amazing company. Throughout this journey, I’ve continued to realize how fortunate I am to have the family and friends that we do. Frankly, we don’t actually have friends, because they have become family to us. ❤ I can’t imagine how dreadful not only this journey, but our lives in general, would be without their gracious love and support. Nothing would make us happier than to cheerily tell them that we are pregnant during the holidays.
Ah yes, the holiday season is upon us. It seems like just yesterday when I thought we would be telling our family that we were pregnant over the Christmas time. Keep in mind that we have never once conceived in the almost two years we’ve been trying. However, last holiday season, my period was absent, I had every damn symptom of pregnancy, and then nothing. Instead of announcing a pregnancy, we started 2015 with our first round of infertility treatment; Clomid.
I don’t think I could love anything more than starting 2016 with an actual baby announcement for our biggest fans. Nothing would make our hearts more happy (except for the actual birth of our child). In the event that we don’t have a pregnancy announcement to welcome 2016, I’m slowly preparing myself for more invasive options to conceive.
My insurance begins on November 1, and my appointment with the Reproductive Endocrinologist is on November 10. Ideally in those four weeks, I would have ovulated and may even be pregnant. However, the timing of all that occurring is zero. If only we lived in a perfect world.
Hopefully everything goes well and the universe will eventually align for our household. Until then, I’ll be here.
Oh my goodness, has it been another unintended break from blogging.
Life has gotten so crazy that I haven’t had the chance to blog. Well, the chance has finally arrived. Let me catch you up on the important things over these last two weeks.
I never got a positive OPK. I didn’t get my period. I’m back on Provera.
Yup, I think that about sums it up. 😉
A side effect of Provera (for me, at least) is that I have an insatiable appetite. It’s absolutely ridiculous. I started Provera on Monday and since then, I have gained around 5-7lbs. Mother of GOD!!! Hopefully it will fall off as quickly as it was packed on.
After my first round of Provera back in January of this year, my cycles re-regulated themselves and I ovulated on my own each month up until this August. The OB is convinced that it is stress that has delayed Ms. Flo from arriving, and I think she’s right.
Hopefully I have the same positive results with Provera as I did in January, and hopefully by November, I will experience the joys of my very first big, fat, positive.
I feel like a toddler saying “I’ve been bad.” That’s the truth though; I have been.
After my few days of spotting, I just stopped tracking & trying. Not intentionally. That’s just how it went. For the entire month of September I failed to take my foil acid, Prenatals, baby aspirin, and all the other mambo jumbos I was ingesting.
Over the the last few days, I’ve enjoyed a glass of indulgence, better known as wine. Only A glass, however. Moreover, I haven’t taken a single OPK in the last two and half weeks. So, the million dollar question: Where the hell do we go from here?!
That’s right. I’m getting back on the hormonal roller coaster.
Some point during my impromptu hiatus, I realized that I had four rounds of clomid left, and I felt deep down that I was ready for another round. No hesitancy or second guessing like the first two rounds.
I have an OB appt Monday. That will be when I’ll ask for the (hopefully) magic pill. Perhaps the saying “third time’s the charm” will ring true for us.
For tonight though, I’ll be enjoying a glass of wine. 🙂