That Girl; or, This Girl

I've double-checked that my Ob-Gyn records arrived at the RE's. I've booked a (desperately needed) bikini wax. I've reordered my prenatals (possibly for the last time, since I think the prescription officially expires this month). And I've printed out 17 charts--the record of almost two years worth of my body's reproductive efforts. Late and early ovulation. Long and short cycles. Temperatures and fertility readings and spotting and periods. One positive pregnancy test followed 30 days later by a red dot.

I look at that first chart from November 2008 and the age listed at the top (28) and I think: I am not that girl.

That girl who thought if she read the right books and did the right things and planned and predicted and started early and left nothing to chance she could win at having a baby just like she'd won at everything else that mattered.

That girl who was both so smug and so scared, but mostly smug. Who whispered to herself awful things like "I'm not fat, so I won't have any problems" and "I have a regular cycle, so I won't have any problems" and "I'm starting nice and young, so I won't have any problems" and thought that just saying the words would make them true.

That girl who told her friends, "We're going to start trying to get pregnant now!" and thought it meant, "We're going to have a baby." That girl who thought that making the decision to try was the hard part.

That girl who figured out her first potential due date (thinking it would be the only, not thinking it would be the first) months before she even ovulated. That girl who planned for the "perfect" month to give birth in and the "perfect" way to break the news and the "perfect" labor she was sure to have.

That girl who wondered if she was ready to be a mom even as she cried over her very first negative test.

One year to the week later, we found out the m&m was dead. Twenty-two months later, we're visiting the doctor bearing stacks of paper dotted with little eggs and hearts and acronyms and numbers.

In September of 2010 (age: 30) this girl doesn't bother with the books any longer (thanks for nothing, Toni Weschler). This girl doesn't bother with the thermometer and barely bothers with the charts.

This girl doesn't want to know what her potential due date is. This girl assumes due dates are only and always potential.

This girl doesn't call her friends to talk about another failed cycle, another peak reading, another hopeful or hopeless two-week wait. This girl has watched her friends gain so easily what has come so hard and taken so long. More than anything, this girl wants to be left alone.

This girl has realized there's a depth of jealousy and anger and frustration in her heart that she never could have imagined. This girl has watched it poison relationships from the inside out, wondering how to make herself care when everything feels so bleak.

This girl has discovered sources of incredible empathy and support that she never thought she would.

This girl has fought her own heartache and won. This girl has been defeated by grief and sadness over and over and over again.

This girl doesn't know what comes next. This girl is incapable of prognostication, and finally admits it.

This girl knows that one day in the future she'll be "That Girl" again, unknowing of her destiny, ignorant of the choices she'll make, unaware of the happiness in store for her and the steps required to reach it.

This girl is afraid to hope.

But this girl hopes that day comes soon.

Whiny Whinerson; or Good and Bad

Today is a BAD day because:

- I had a temp drop this morning (boo)
- Right before I went to jury duty (booo)
- Where I was selected to be on a trial (boooooo!!)

and because:
- my pre-AF nausea is intense (it's a new post-m/c PMS symptom)
- and I have a tummy ache

Today is a GOOD day because:

- No blood means a teeny bit of hope (yay)
- The weather outside is delightful (Yay)
- The court had wifi so I planned the itinerary for our Scandinavia trip (YAY!)

I hope your April Fools Days were more good than bad.

It's All In the Timing; or, Effing Eff Eff

This what my Fertility Friend chart looks like today (I couldn't post a screen cap of the image like usual, so this will have to do):

My Ovulation Chart

She (because of course FF is a she-- a snide, bitchy, gets-pregnant-at-the-drop-of-a-condom kind of she) seems to think I ovulated three days ago. I do not agree. I think I ovulated yesterday. My post-o temps are usually 98.0 or above, and today's temp is the first to fit that bill. Plus, ovulating on CD 19 would mean ovulating on the very first peak day and before my EWCM dried up, which seems unlikely.

I also kind of want to have ovulated yesterday, rather than a few days before. The timing of certain events would be more propitious, shall we say.

Of course, FF could always change her mind (she's fickle like that) depending on what happens with my temps in the next few days. And maybe the timing was good regardless of which day I ovulated. Maybe it was bad for both days. I just don't know. I wasn't charting during our BFP cycle, so I don't actually know when we had sex in relation to my ovulation. I don't know what's good timing for us and what's not. I don't know anything!

Either way, I've got a plan for myself during this 2ww: DO NOT OBSESS!

Do not obsess. Do not obsess. Do not obsess.

Do not obsess.

Repeating that to myself over and over will totally work, right?

Join Me on this Carnival Ride; or, One Week Down

This two week wait has been maddening. I feel like I'm on a tilt-a-whirl: up, down, sidewise, back, and forth, and with a huge mechanical jolt every time the ride changes direction.

Yesterday I woke up convinced there is no way I'm pregnant and went to bed convinced that I am. I can't put much stock in intuition, because I "felt" I was pregnant during all six of our previous failed cycles last spring and summer, so I'm clearly not the best judge. A huge temp drop (of one full degree) this morning at 7 dpo has also messed with my head: maybe it's implantation; but I had drops like that in other failed cycles; maybe I now have a luteal phase defect and I'm going to get my period tomorrow; maybe I'll never ever get pregnant again.

Today was my last day temping until AF. I don't need the fodder for senseless analysis.

And I'm going to spend the rest of the 2ww blogging about other things than my imaginary symptoms, issues I've been considering these past months and need to share. I'm going to try to stop mashing my breasts to check or "tenderness" every four minutes and eating mac n cheese every three days in an effort to "prove" that I'm ravenous. I won't test before 15 dpo, which is a week from Tuesday. I'll most likely get my period between Saturday and Monday.

I know I've got a good shot this month-- well-timed sex and a strong ovulation. But I also know that even the most fertile couples are lucky (incredibly lucky!) to conceive their first time trying. And forgive me for my cynicism, but luck hasn't been much of a companion on this trip thus far.

One week to go. Or less.

Probably less.

Something Like Success; or, It Starts

Isn't this a pretty sight:

Today's a "this isn't going to work" day. Today's a "things can't be that easy" day. Today's a "don't get your hopes up" day.

But I ovulated, so that's a start.

Happy Valentines Day!; or, Come On Girls, You Can Do It

My Dear Ovaries,

I just adore the unexpected Valentine's Day gift I found you'd left me this morning. Two Peaks in a row? How thoughtful! I haven't seen one of those since early October.

You're really just far too generous.

I feel awful that I have nothing in return. But if you're in a giving mood and can throw in some sex tonight and a temp rise tomorrow I'll do my best to reward you with nine or so months off.

And seriously, ladies. I know how lazy you are.

Your friend,

Secret Sloper

Long Cycles Are No Fun; or, Chart Day

Seriously ovaries. Any time now.

Next to Normal; or, Charts and Graphs

Things have been busy in the Sloper's household the last week: I'm taking three fantastic seminars for my final semester of coursework. I'm teaching another class of college freshmen how to write. I'm attending Junior League meetings and birthday parties and christenings and girls nights on the town and date nights with my husband. I'm reading a lot and writing not as much as I should be.

I'm also taking my temperature every morning:

Hmmm. Not one of my "pretty" charts of yore. But then again, those pretty charts never got me pregnant, so what did they know?

Post-miscarriage, my body feels like a stranger to me--I don't know what "normal" is anymore. I'm honestly charting to figure that out, not as some magic ticket to pregnancy achievement. Maybe that's why the terrible insomnia and anxiety that accompanied my first go-round with the BBT has been notably absent this last week or so.

Maybe I'm just all out of anxiety for the time being.