Its CD13. No positive OPK yet. I’m not worried, but it would have been nice to ovulate on day 14 again, for a lot of reasons. The biggest being that BFF is taking tomorrow off to move and would have had the day open to run around leaving his sperm sample at wheverthehell he will have to leave it. And I have always been an achiever and ovulating on day 14 just seems so . . .successful. Still, in all the cycles before this past one, I ovulated between day 16-18, so no cause for concern.
La and I had a good conversation this past weekend about my general down-in-the-dumpiness. I am used to having some issues with mood – but my go-to is anxiety, a bursting overwhelm flooding my head. And the last few weeks I have been stagnant. Sad, I guess, although it doesn’t seem to manifest that way. Just reclusive and low energy and cynical. Flat. I don’t know entirely why, although if I were betting, I’d put some money on all this baby stuff. Still, that doesn’t seem like the whole story. There’s more to it, but I’m not sure where to go to figure that out. Its making it hard to find hope. Not that I feel hopeless, exactly, just that the excitement isn’t palpable in the same way it usually is. I guess I just don’t feel the energy to get excited. I feel weird and guilty and kind of ashamed for still being kind of morose; after all, we’ve hardly even begun down the long and winding path of fertility. And I’m not altogether sure that’s all, or even the central component, of my funk anyway.
At the end of this week, we will lose three adult and two baby friends from Denver. The Bug and the Bee and their parents are headed to NC to pursue new job opps; another friend is going to Chicago for graduate school. All of these friendships have been pivotal for me in some respect or another, and I’m heartsore at the prospect of not having these people in my day-to-day life. I’m not the best long distance friend, and I don’t often have the social spoons to make new friends.
And I’m ready for it to be fall already! I’m ready for cool nights and scarves and tights and that particular edge the light gets in the autumn. And birthdays! I’ll be 32 in less than 2 months; La will be 33 in just under 3. Although getting older is starting to feel a little less awesome, I love birthdays and I love celebrating my boo. I am, for sure, at my social (and fashionable!) best in the fall too, so I’m hoping my excitement about falling leaves and pumpkins and cardigans will translate into some new and/or renewed connections there too.
I guess I’m waiting for a tide to turn, for a page to pass, to get over a hump. I feel stuck and sweaty and lethargic. This cycle feels like waiting for waiting’s sake too, knowing that on the other side of this try is either the ultimate outcome (pregnancy!) or, maybe, the beginning of a very different plan. I’m anxious to see if the supplements and acupuncture have paid off and made any difference in BFF’s morphology. And I’m scared that it hasn’t. I’m less scared that I will struggle with that, and more nervous that I will not and La will and that will be a problem.
So, I’m fence sitting, edge watching, waiting.