March 27th, 2011. CD31, 13DPO.
…Madness is probably putting it lightly. All of this waiting for answers is driving me cuh-razy!
I don’t think I’ve ever had a thirteen-day luteal phase before, so color me suspicious. My temp did, however, take a plunge this morning, so I’m planning to pack some extra “supplies” for the little outing the husband and I are taking today.
I also haven’t tested yet, despite the stalker-like obsession with which I’ve been charting my symptoms (or lack thereof). I almost don’t want to get my hopes up too much, even for those three minutes while the stupid pee-stick is processing. Anyone out there who’s ever taken a pregnancy test knows that those three minutes are the l o n g e s t in the history of telling time. I guess I don’t want to subject myself to that stress more often than necessary.
So, other than just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and generally feeling like a mopey burden to everyone around me, there’s not much new here.
I’ve been contemplating acupuncture, both for fertility and for anxiety. I found the website for a community acupuncture center in my area that charges on a sliding scale, so I may pay them a visit to see what it’s all about.
Also, according to my blog stats, someone out there ran a Google search for “inspirational words for a teen mom” and Google pointed them here… Something tells me they didn’t exactly find what they were looking for.
Ah yes, one more thing… I’ve come to the realization that I have a history of letting my disappointment get the best of me, and using material possessions (and pets) to fill the voids. For example, the laptop upon which I am currently typing. Also, our adorable little kitty-cat, Olive, who was an impulse adoption after a year of trying for a baby yielded zero results, and I came home with a fish a couple of days after my HSG. It goes back further than the disappointment of TTC unsuccessfully, though. Charlie, my furry doorstop of a cat, was a tiny ball of fuzz I used to placate myself after a nasty breakup many years ago, and our dog Remy came about from my feeling like I had waited long enough for an engagement ring…
“No pressure for the future, honey, but we’re getting a dog. Who could potentially live for twenty years. That we both have to co-pet-parent. For-EV-er.”
I guess it’s what I do to cope with things not going according to my wishful plans. So if I’ve gone from cat, to dog, to cat, to fish, to laptop, I can only imagine what my next impulse is going to lead me to bring home. I’m thinking that if this TTC with no luck thing goes on a lot longer, it might be something big. Like a pony. Or a car.
…Or IUI, which actually has a better potential of happening in the realistic future. I know that if this cycle doesn’t take, Dr. Awesome will likely suggest that I take a couple of months off the Clomid and see an RE for further consultation. She has mentioned IUI in the past, and it might be time to think a little more about it.
I’m just afraid the whole “turkey-baster” imagery will ruin Thanksgiving for me. Now that would be tragic.
Oh, and in the spirit of my animal-hoarding ways–here’s a poll: