You can take the infertile out of the neurosis, but you can't take the neurosis out of the infertile

First off, I have been so self-involved over the past week that I have neglected to thank whomever wrote a Secret Ode to me on Mel’s blog. That truly made my day. Sometimes, I wonder how much I should talk about my faith for fear of offending someone. Then, I think that even if some of my readers don’t share in my spiritual beliefs, perhaps my faith can help them grow in their own way.

M and I are so proud of ourselves. For the first time ever in this TTC process, we have actually been aware of ovulation when it is happening and have been able to time sex accordingly--the day before, the day of and the day after. And both of our bodies worked the way they should work! (M, if you’ll recall, was having performance issues related to medication. He’s changed medications, and things are mostly back to normal.) From my temping, I figure that I probably did indeed ovulate on CD13. CD13! That never happens for me!

That said, I wouldn’t be Ann if I didn’t have some type of neurosis left. Like Geohyde, my initial temping after ovulation was less than satisfactory. My temps hadn’t risen much, and by last night, I had started to convince myself that my RE was wrong and I hadn’t ovulated after all. I was terrified my temperature would dip this morning. Fortunately, it rose and all my fears were for naught.

I am also experiencing some sort of post-ovulation withdrawal, similar to Ultimatejourney’s. We have done everything we can this cycle, and now all we can do is wait. I realize that all of you go through this each and every cycle; indeed, that is what the 2ww is all about. But I’m not used to it. I’m used to actively pursuing ways to force my body to work correctly. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now that our efforts have actually paid off and I at least have a chance in hell of getting pregnant. What do I do with myself now???

Unfortunately, M is out of town on business Thursday through Tuesday, which doesn’t help in distracting me. I’m trying to arrange some “playtime” with a new friend, and hopefully I’ll be able to meet my parents, who live two hours away, for dinner or something on Sunday. Please, go quickly, 2ww!

Why I love my left ovary

The Letrozole/Femara worked! Yippee! (For you Googlers who are happening upon this blog for the first time, Clomid = no regular ovulation for me. So there is life after Clomid! (I hope) )

Despite the best efforts of Living-in-the-moment Ann, I’ve been a mess all week. It’s been difficult for me to make plans for the weekend, because I kept on thinking, That’s after I’ll know for sure whether oral meds are a total wash for me. What if I’m in a total depression?

Since Dr. Hot was on vacation, the other RE at the clinic, whom I’ll call Dr. Supportive, did the honors (today is CD13). First he checked my uterine lining, which he said looked great (I didn’t get specifics). Then he looked at Right Ovary. Nothing. Nada. Zip. It occurred to me to panic, but then I thought, Well, the last couple of times Left Ovary has done all the work, so maybe that’s the case this time, too. Sure enough, Dr. Supportive triumphantly showed me the big black blog on my left ovary. 17 mm. I was practically in tears, I was so relieved. He said it appeared as though I was in the process of ovulating already, so no need for an hCG shot. His prescription? Since we had sex last night, he suggested doing the deed tomorrow. (I quickly interjected, “But what about tonight?” He laughed and told me he was just about to say that.) I feel like a newbie with this whole trying-to-conceive thing, eagerly inquiring as to when I should copulate with my husband. Because, you’ve gotta remember, this is the first time ever that we’ve actually known I was about to ovulate. Ahead of time. This is the first time my reproductive cycle has been more than guesswork. Now, let’s just hope that we’re able to get our mission accomplished over the next few days. Then M and I will both be feeling pretty proud of our bodies.

My biggest concern now is my, er, “lady lubrication.” I was dry as the Sahara last night, but this morning things felt a bit, um, wetter. Maybe one of these days I might actually be privy to the elusive EWCM. It’s a rare species, and I’ve tended to doubt its existence, but by golly, I’m going to do my darnedest to coax it out of its hiding place.