Taking the "Two" Out of the Two Week Wait.
According to Fertility Friend I ovulated on CD12. Seemed early, but I was alright with that. Sexy time was well-timed, and I was two days closer to the end of the cycle than I was last cycle. I was happy, went about my business and felt perhaps even a little positive about this month. After all, if I were to get preggers, this would put a due date smack dab towards the end of harvest, which is exactly the time I don't really want to have a bubs, if I could choose when to have a bubs. IF I could get pregnant. Assumptions vs. Murphy's Law.
Then a funny thing happened. Something that hadn't happened to me yet, although I was aware it could. Fertility Friend changed their mind. I ovulated on CD15. Hmm...ok, well...sexy time was still reasonably timed, though not as well as for an ovulation on CD12. The plan, as is the plan every month, is that bonking shall occur on CD8 (clear any cobwebs from Aunt Flo and stop freaky sex dreams), CD10, CD12, CD14, and CD16. And if by CD17 I haven't ovulated, I always planned on a CD18 bonk just to be sure. So by the time CD15 rolled around, Fertility Friend reckoned CD12 had been the day, so I gave the Moose a well earned break, and we did not bonk on CD16. He is getting to be an old man, after all, and I don't want to break him (hence the every other day sexy time rather than every single day).
So...when Fertility Friend decided to be indecisive again on Saturday and changed my ovulation date to CD19, I officially FREAKED THE FUCK out. Because we last bonked on CD14. So if Fertility Friend is correct (and I am hoping they are not), I am out of the game this month, and now have an extra 6 days to endure before Aunt Flo arrives just in time for me to go away two nights on a training course. Murphy, you and your law sucks. Assumptions, you too.
Add this on top of the fact that I have lost maybe half a kilo, with all my running and cutting out beers and snacky things from my diet. Half a kilo. I needed to be down nearly a kilo and a half at this stage, to hit my goal of 10 kilos in 3 cycles. So that isn't going to happen.
The icing on the cake (which I suppose I shouldn't even look at let alone eat), is the letter I received on Saturday, kindly informing me that my referral to the gyno ain't gonna happen as I am in no way urgently in need of sorting out what is probably endo. Not even on the waiting list. Signed by a man. Let him feel what I feel Every. Single. Month. and see if I still get declined!! Seriously, a melon-baller to the uterus would be heaven in the throes of those cramps! I still have my drugs, I guess that is the silver lining.
So all of this has been building and building (as well as stress and annoyance from work...seriously I want to punch some people in the face), and Saturday, the levee sort of broke. I freaked out again. This month is probably a bust, just like every other bust. The weight I need to lose to see an RE publicly funded isn't coming off even when I AM TRYING. And even if it does come off, I can only get 2 cycles of whatever treatment they decide is best for me, once they diagnose me (if they even can). And there is a waiting list for that. Which I can't get on because I am overweight. At the rate I am going, maybe 6 months to lose this weight, maybe a few more months on a waiting list, maybe a year to get diagnosed and even begin the only treatments we can afford (the publicly funded ones). I want to dive face first into a cheesecake and drink a case of beer, because seriously? Fuck it, this shit ain't happening. Where are the damn cheesy poofs?
And the only thing keeping me remotely sane is the jogging. I am not as stiff and sore as I was last week. I can go longer, and probably faster. I go from feeling like I am being suffocated in a pool of shit to feeling lighter, freer, and maybe even enlightened. I return home feeling good (at least for a few hours) and even happy. Saturday afternoon's run, after that damn rejection from the gyno, was amazing. A skinny lady on a bike passed by shouting encouragement and giving me a thumbs up (nice since I had my music up so loud she scared the shit outta me) and I wanted to chase her down and hug her (but I still had 10 minutes of jogging left and needed the energy to get home...and no one likes sweaty hugs from strangers). Today I checked off my 5k mark, jogging a great river track with a friend. It felt good. It was the longest I had jogged. Endorphins, you absolutely rock. I will not give up on this yet. My body is learning to do something it hasn't done in years, and it is succeeding. I am regaining my confidence. I've got this.
And as a precaution against further trickery on behalf of mischievous ovaries or indecisive Fertility Friend, I have ordered some OPKs, and some HPTs as well. Guess I will be peeing on my money after all.
Oh, and I do chart as accurately as possible. I just have fluctuating temps. This cycle has been pretty wild and I can think of no good explanation for it. I will just have to wait til I bleed and count back my 14 days to find the truth I guess.
And I have been listening to Led Zeppelin exclusively.