Well, I tried. I am pretty sure the BIC (Bitch In Charge), Aunt Flow is on her way. Today is CD 26 12 DPO. I could have been testing today. But noooo. My uterus said she wasn't ready for visitors, and is currently cleaning house. We will try again next cycle, but I really had high hopes this time. Not only did I get that funny feeling, my body sent me all kinds of mixed signals. Almost like when you are at a bar and you look up to see prince charming staring at you like he found his princess. You get all excited at the thought that this hot guy has singled you out. He smiles, you smile, he waves, you wave. You see him get up and walk toward you, and you start thinking of what he will say, what you will say. He finally makes his way over and walks right past you to the tall blonde standing behind you. Now you feel dumb for thinking he was looking at you, and especially hateful towards the lucky woman.
That about sums me up. I feel like a mo-mo because I thought this was it. Now I didn't go running around telling the world that I was with child. That is total idiot suicide. No, I just sat here and convinced myself that this was it. It was my turn. No one in the family was pregnant, no friends are expecting. I could keep this time to myself, be excited with everyone, and have my baby in my arms in 9 months or so. Oh woe is me. I guess I am just being hormonal about it now.
I would feel better if I didn't feel different this time. That would actually make sense. But I guess the Clomid is making it 10 times more confusing. I have had cramps, on and off, not breaking out much, none of my typical cravings. I haven't even begged for chocolate once! Other wise, the symptoms that I have associated with the impending doom are here. I have had small streaks of blood in my wipes. I have had blood in my CM. I have even had sex twice, and that usually does the trick for me. But it refuses to flow. I just want it to come out so I can restart the timer. Maybe I'll try jumping jacks at lunch.
So with another failed cycle under my belt, I have a license to drink my arse off this weekend. Not to self medicate, and I am not at the stage that I want to be numb (yet), I just want to pretend like I am in my 20's and not worried about much but having a good time. I also know I have no desire to be falling down drunk. Lord knows I do not need to wake up on Sunday morning with a what-the-hell-did-I-do-? hangover. Saturday night I will be attending my 11 year reunion. Why 11 years? Because as usual, the slacker that I am, and the majority of my friends in HS did not attend our 10 year reunion. So when we got to talking over old school pictures, we decided that screw it, we will throw our own reunion!
Of course it will be at a bar, and of course there will be drama, and awkward introductions. I can't wait for my husband to meet the people that made up my high school life. I will feel like I am introducing my husband to the past version of myself in a way. He will dislike almost everyone. I expect it. It should be interesting.
No comments:
Post a Comment