pick-me up

Hello Friday, I'm so glad you are here.

This has been a tough week, not due to any TCC issues, but because I've been under the weather and swamped at work. Analytical thinking, or any kind of thinking for that matter, is terribly difficult when you feel like the bottom of a boot.

But, I think that I'm on the mend and should be feeling fine for the weekend! I so enjoy that day, after an illness, when your strength and energy return. When there's such an appreciation for feeling healthy.

In TTC news, I'm waiting for the big O, which seems to be somewhat delayed this cycle. My trusty monitor normally gives me *highs* starting around DPO 9 (early, early) and I typically O around DPO12.

Well today, is DPO 11 and I just got the good word to proceed without caution. Good timing, I suppose, seeing as I just got my moxie back . . .

In far more exciting news, I think that, if all goes well, we might be welcoming a new furry member of our family tomorrow - details to follow. But for now, I'm taking suggestions for male dog names . . .

Any suggestions for boy dog names.

and so it goes

owen gildersleeve (via mint)

A few days can be enough time to let the light shine back through, even if it's only peeking in at this point.

Initially, I felt so foolish. Mostly because I allowed myself to be relieved.

Relieved that maybe this *infertility* business would be over, that we would never have to have another test, that there was nothing ever *wrong* with either of us, that I wouldn't be put in the difficult position of deciding whether to undergo treatment (something I am absolutely confused about), that we wouldn't have to endure all of the emotional ups and downs of an adoption, that our baby would be close in age with its cousins, that we would be parents.

Now I've had a small while to process that we are back at the very place I felt so relieved to leave.

But, I have to make room for hope between all of this anger and sadness.

Life goes on and we're going to make it a beautiful one.

crushed

(via elseachelsea)

My plan of trying to avoid this day by sleeping through it was off to a terrible start. At 5 a.m. - my mind racing, full of thoughts, expectations, hope - I finally couldn't take it anymore and got up to take an HPT.

negative.

I wasn't too disappointed at it's early, DPO9, and still no spotting.

I went back to bed, but couldn't quite rest, so I started my day. Took a shower. Walked my pup to the grocery store to get some strawberry jam and butter for a tart I was planning on bringing over to my friend house this afternoon. Returned home, took the laundry out of the dryer.

Checked for the 204th time.

but this time.

tinged.

The Harbinger

(via *Cinnamon)

Yesterday, was the dreaded DPO 7. That's typically when the spotting comes and dashes my hopes for a given cycle.

With the exception of December (and that's because I inexplicably became wrapped up in the possiblity of a Christmas miracle), I haven't been too optimisic about these past few cycles.

I've come to expect disappointment. And while each disappointment is not easy, I think it's somehow easier to accept when you aren't hopeful.

But this cycle, I'm completely unable to manage my expectations.

They are floating higher and higher. I think that I could almost describe myself as giddy with excitement and anticipation. And giddy is not a place I think I want to be when it all comes crashing back down to reality.

I think that it all started with cornbread. We were baking some cornbread and I cracked an egg with two yolks. The next day, my husband made a comment that he thought that little egg with its two yolks was a harbinger. I know, I know - you're obviously thinking it and perhaps we are grasping at straws. A two-yolk egg? really. There are some other reasons too, but I don't really feel like delving into that right now.

Now it's DPO 8 and there's still no sign of any spotting. I keep popping into the bathroom about every half hour to check . Nothing.

I need a distraction . . .

knocking at the door.

(via Kdashy)

hello? can anyone hear me? I'm ready.

Please let me through . . .

under the big top

Domestic Construction

I wonder if my husband will let me do this in our bedroom . . .

A Singular Soreness

photo by me (can't figure out how to properly size it though)

This past weekend, I was up in my home town for my best friend's bridal shower. It was so nice to catch up with friends and see my mom.

I'm 5 days past ovulation and feeling optimistic. That's largely due to my new *symptom* -- one sore boob. Not a sore pair. Just a singlular soreness. But it is not normal. Maybe a sign.

The wait continues.

one day

It's that time again.

So we are doing our very best to make one day today.

in like a lion

(via berkelium)

another chance

After talking it over with my husband, we decided to postpone my hsg until next month. I just couldn't take a month *off.*

and, while it's fading with every month, there is still a part of me that thinks it'll happen.

on its own.

if we have the patience to let it happen.

I am, afterall, an optimist, but not necessarily a patient optimist.

some mondays you just want to stay in bed

Her Morning Elegance / Oren Lavie