Last week was a fertility week. I’m pretty sure I ovulated on Friday morning — during an 11am meeting, I sat there in pain, husband at work downtown. We also had evening plans that we were not going to cancel, so we did a Saturday morning post-ovulation session. Our timing this month wasn’t great, but you know what I say to that?
My husband is a bit bummed out, though — he was thrilled with the wonders of progesterone last cycle, so he’s anxious that he might’ve gotten me in the family way and my body won’t be able to sustain it. I’m all, welcome to my world for 11 months, buddy! But kidding aside, I told him that, technically, I fall within a normal range and that theoretically a blastocyst would signal my body to keep on keeping on with the progesterone. That cheered him up a bit. If we were to get a positive, I’d contact my doctor or the RE and beg for that stuff, just to be on the safe side.
But to be honest, I’ve been in such a good mood the past two months that it’s hard to get really anxious. As a result, stress has lessened, I have a lot of energy to devote to other thoughts and activities, and sex — even procreative sex — has become a lot more fun than it used to be. In odd moments, I find myself thinking, “Hmm, might be a good thing if this didn’t happen until May or June or so … at least then I’d have been here a year before going on mat leave.” Because I want to do well here and I want to stay here.
Of course, I know it’ll happen when it happens. From what I’ve seen at work, my org is supportive of pregnant women. But I confess those thoughts creep in.
That said, we have our follow-up appointment with the RE next week and I’m just not sure what to expect. All of our numbers came back fine. Other than possibly doing Day 21 testing to see how my progesterone levels truly are, I’m not sure I can think of what’s next. They might tell us to try for a few more months before moving onto medicated cycles. They may start me on just progesterone, or up the ante with other medications. They may recommend an IUI (though I find that unlikely).
“They may,” my husband says with trepidation, “tell me to stop drinking beer!”
(I now know there are two ways to strike fear into a man’s heart: deny him sexual release and deny him alcohol. He will quake with genuine terror.)
Overall, though, while we’re still trying to make Baby Writer, things have been much better in regards to TTC. I don’t deny that can change — who knows what steps we’ll have to take to greet him/her/them (twins would be fine — at this point, we’re fine with a package deal)? But for now, we’ve reached a level of calm. One is that I’ve opened up and am sharing more with my husband and other people in my life. Another is that we have many other things going on that are bringing us good cheer. In other words, I’ve stopped turning inward and being so narrow and allowing myself to live, damn it, live!
There’s still a lot of uncertainty, but I’ve found it easier to let it go. Not letting it go meant that I got to make myself miserable every month.
There wasn’t much fun in that.