I'm still floating around in limbo. waiting.
I'd managed to remain a bit less detached during the past few cycles. Ever since that damned double yolk egg, I wised up to the fact that I need to guard against *foolish* optimism or risk that ruthless, stinging disappointment.
But, with this cycle's medical reinforcements, I've been forced to become more intimately aware of this process than ever before.
The good news is that it's DPO 12 and there's not been a hint of spotting. Nothing. At. All.
The bad news is that I tested on DPO 9 and 11 and both were negative.
Up and down.
Up and down.
My husband and I are nearly off to the beach for a weekend with friends. I was truly meant to live at the beach . someday . . .
In other news, to borrow a term from a blogger friend, Hillary, I am in the midst of Spotwatch 06.09.
So far, nothing. not even a tinge.
Perhaps those prometruim suppositories were just what was needed. Though, delayed spotting has fooled me before, so I'm hesitent to start feeling wildly optimistic just yet.
Maybe more desperately hopeful?
I'm hoping all of my dips into the ocean will adequately distract me over the next 48 hours.
I'm am toying with the idea of cutting off many inches. I can almost feel the freedom, the lightness, the change.
almost. then I remember how much I love long hair.
Here are some of the inspiration pictures that are tempting me towards a less is more approach with my mane
picture by me
What I didn't expect was the following:
As of late, I've observed that our failure to get knocked up is seemingly having a negative effect on my budgeting abilities. While I should be diligently saving for a whole host of worthier things, it seems that I've been nurturing a rather serious shopping habit over the last couple of months. Above is only a smattering of some of my indulgences. I'm not saying that they aren't lovely, but perhaps I need a new coping mechanism . . .
Life has been rolling along. We've had a pair of weekends spent at home, which with all the summertime travel was much appreciated. We were able to get in a mini-road trip (windows down of course), lots of ice cream (specifically, root beer floats), dinner with friends, dinner alone, crafting projects for an upcoming baby shower, homemade pizza, a couple of baseball games and the list goes on.
This weekend, we traveled up to my mother-in-law's for a visit. Unfortunately, due to some pesky allergies, I sneezed through the majority of it.
We've also had some more time to process the information from our last doctor's visit. I went to my local pharmacy and picked up the prescription for clomid. At that time, being on the fence about whether it was for me, I didn't know whether I was going to take it or not. However, with nothing to show from our previous efforts and feeling like the options are limited, I popped the little pills diligently for 5 days.
Now, I'm waiting.
and worrying (did I make the wrong choice? is this delaying ovulation? should we have just gone au natural one more month?)
Prior to this process, I was never really a worrier. Perhaps, this new injection of second-guessing and concern is just a realistic introduction to motherhood . . .