Day 47. Still waiting. But hopefully one of the following (or all of them in concert) will get my mojo (and my endometrium) flowing:
-Exceptionally strong parsley tea
-Finishing my provera script
-Castor oil packs
-Extra vitamin C supplements (don’t worry though, I haven’t gone totally off the deep end)
-Sexy time with my lady friend
-A lot of bargaining with the universe
In my rational mind, I know that getting my period a day or two earlier (which is all that any of these things are likely to accomplish, other than possibly giving me some nasty cramps) won’t make a lot of difference in terms of how everything shakes out. But my rational mind stopped being a part of the baby making process a long time ago, unfortunately.
Really, it comes down to my deep distrust of my own body, which I hate. On Monday night, in therapy, I was sobbing about it. “Why can’t my body do anything right?” I asked. “Forget getting pregnant, I can’t even menstruate like I should.”
Is this overwrought? Yes. Melodramatic? OF COURSE. But it feels so impossible to not be betrayed by this thing that I live and breathe and love in. It isn’t actually about getting to start the diagnostic cycle, or try one last Hail Mary IUI. Its about my body acting like we are told bodies should. And how deeply implicated I feel in my body’s betrayal.
It shouldn’t be long now. I’m definitely having cramps (whether thanks to the emmenagogues or my uterus’ own contractions) and provera has always sealed the deal before. But, like every other part of this process, its always the last bit of waiting that hurts the worst.