Wordless Wednesday

We're off to see the RE

The fat lady just sang a big old aria in the keys of A and F. A measly eight days after I *finally* ovulated, on CD28. I got a heads up yesterday because my temp dropped, so I called my RE's office. I had been debating about it shortly before I finally O'ed - given that my cycle does not seem to be trending towards normal, I think it's time to call in the cavalry. I was lucky enough to get an appointment for Friday, which I was really hoping for so that I could do something about this upcoming cycle. I would like to walk away from that appointment with a prescription in my hot little hands for Clomid or Femara to help me O earlier, and progesterone to help with the LP. We'll see.

I already knew how very, incredibly lucky I was to get pregnant with Ant, these irregular cycles make me appreciate it even more. The decision I made on that natural cycle to use the progesterone just in case, seems now to be likely the thing that made all the difference.

Finally!!!

I was completely convinced on Sunday that I was not going to O this cycle until something ridiculous like CD42. My CM apparently dried up, my temp was that of a person near death (96.6), and my OPK was negative.

I wasn't even going to do another OPK on Monday, CM was still practically nonexistent, but a friend from the HA board said that I really should because you just never know. My OPK from the day before had appeared a bit darker, but that just seemed like the pattern I'd already observed twice before this cycle.

So... I peed on another stick on Monday. To my complete astonishment, it was an almost positive. And as I had had a lot to drink and gone to the bathroom 2.5 hours before, I figured that was good enough.

Temping confirmed my O (my THIRD!!!) on Monday or perhaps Tuesday. CD 27/28. About flipping time :-)

So now I'm in my second first 2ww. Not expecting much, but having a smidgen of hope.

Metrosexual Man

Now for something completely different

My mom is an avid gardener, and has stocked my little plot with numerous interesting plants over the years we've live here. Her latest offering were some dahlias that friends of hers who own a nursery were giving away to loving homes. I adore them, they are flowering at this time of year when there isn't much else of interest in the garden. And I think they are incredibly beautiful blossoms. So I thought I'd share.

Not-so-rose-tinted glasses

I am so flipping frustrated with my stupid body. I do believe I have the hypothalamic amenorrhea kicked. What I don't have kicked is totally irregular cycles. I have had a visit from the crimson bitch twice since I stopped BFing. The first time was four days after I ovulated, right as BFing ended. The second was 29 days later - 8 days after a CD21 O. I remember having had somewhat long cycles back from when I was a teenager, before any birth control, so I figured, okay, I'm going to O on around CD21... slightly longer than normal, but I can manage that.

So then we decide we're ready to ttc again. I should have known that was a recipe for my body going haywire. I started having EWCM on CD 8 this cycle. I was totally surprised - pleasantly so, thinking that maybe I'd actually O around CD14 and be normal. That dried up a couple of days later. No big deal.

Then it started again, CD13 this time. At this point, my 'no temping no OPKing' idea went out of the window. I was obsessing way more about whether I was going to O or not that I would using those things. So I started charting. This round of EW lasted for three days, then dried up again. So much for a normal length cycle.

Third time's the charm, right? My latest round of EW started on Monday, that's FIVE days ago - and still no positive OPK. Nor a temp rise, so it's not as if I O'ed and just didn't catch the surge. I am currently CD24, with no end in sight.

When I got pregnant with Ant, I O'ed on CD42. I thought, at the time, that it was so late because it was my first natural cycle in oh, forever. Now I'm rethinking that. Perhaps that is normal for me? I *wish* that I had paid attention when I was a teenager so I'd have a better idea of what to expect now.

I had set my baseline expectation at CD21 based on last cycle, but perhaps I should not anticipate O'ing until CD42 and then I'll feel less frustrated. I just wish I knew what was going on with all this egg-white. I'm almost getting to the point where I want to call my RE and see if I can go in for an u/s just to see what things are looking like inside. Do I have a decent sized follicle, that I could just take a trigger shot for? Or am I trundling along, follicle-less, and my hypothalamus is just playing tricks on me?

Damn, I *hate* not being in control, not knowing what is going on.

Boys will be boys

Ant and I were in our bedroom this morning while I was getting dressed. The room is a bit of a disaster, clothes everywhere. He walked over to the chair I discard my clothes on every night, picked up one of my bras, and carried it over to me, saying "hat, hat, hat".

Sorry kiddo, not quite!

More fun with cups

I knew there was a cup story I wanted to share that I was forgetting. Baby brain never went away, unfortunately.

Around ten months, Ant learned two signs: more and milk. He still uses more all the time, but milk seems to have fallen by the wayside. Now, at bedtime, when he's ready for his milk, he'll say "Cup!". I was trying to see if he could say or sign milk still, so I said to him, "Antony, say milk.".

"Cup"

Say milk?

"Cup!"

Milk?

"CUP!"

Can you sign milk?

"cup"

At which point I was laughing so hard I couldn't continue.

It's official

The proverbial goalie has been pulled. We are no longer doing anything to prevent pregnancy, so we are officially 'trying'. I'm in such a different space than I was in 2005 when we were attempting to get pregnant with the baby who turned out to be Ant.

I'm actually cycling! They may not be perfect (late O and 5 and 8 day LP's so far), but I have had two visits from the crimson bitch.

I'm approximately 16 pounds heavier.

I'm exercising about 1/4 as much.

I have my libido back after many, many years absence - wooo-hooo!

I am trying not to let my type A side take charge - no temping, no OPKs.

Finding it so much easier to interact with my pregnant sister (she was pregnant when we were ttc Ant as well - *hard*)

Experiencing the optimistim that most people have when they decide to try and concieve their first baby. (I knew I had problems pretty much from the get-go last time.)

Hoping that I can keep these rose colored glasses on!

Fun with cups.

One of Ant's favorite words now is "cup". He calls everything that looks remotely like such a vessel a cup - bottles, sippy cups, cans, buckets, they're all cups.

We were playing on his bed the other day, I was showing him his belly button, and my bellybutton, and trying to get him to point to one or the other. He poked at his button for a while, as I told him that was his belly button. Then I asked "where's mommy's button?" He didn't seem to have a clue, so I lifted up my shirt and said "there it is!" His response? "CUP!!!"

He doesn't seem to be able to say P's at the beginning of a word, although the end is just fine. So a pot is 'cot'. We have a photo album of all the people important in his life - his mom and dad, grandparents, my sis and her daughter, and we like to go through that with him every now and again, especially now that my in-laws are down in FL for 7 weeks. He's very good at Mama and Dada, and pretty good at Nana too. Hasn't been able to say Papa yet. But when we tried it earlier this week, he made an attempt - "Cupah", which morphed very quickly into just "Cup!".

Wednesday we visited some friends who have a 20-month old son. They had purchased a stuffed hockey stick and puck for him. J showed the puck to Ant, and said "can you say puck"? I'll bet you can guess his response - once again, 'cup'. And we confirmed it by asking a few more times.

I think like most babies when they start walking, Ant was more like a bulldozer, not really caring (or looking at) what was at his feet. Just this past weekend, though, he started noticing, and kicking things on purpose:

You can call me obnoxious. Really, you can.

Soooo.... That post I wrote Friday night (I think) about the line between proud mom and bragging. If you didn't see it, you really didn't miss anything. Well, anything good. It was obnoxious. I SO crossed the line. If you did see it, I really apologize. I was in a bad mood after an interaction with a friend who goes on and on about her kid, and I wrote the post in that frame of mind. It was never my intention to make anyone feel bad, or be hurtful in anyway, and when I read it over a few hours later I realized that it could. And that it was just generally out of line. So I deleted it, hoping that bloglines would not pick it up and I could just pretend that it never happened. But it did get picked up, and so now you all know my inner asshole. Hopefully you'll forgive me this time, I'll work on squashing her some more, and we can still be friends?

Walking wounded

I play ice hockey with a bunch of guys every Tuesday morning. Today I got in the way of a slap shot (inadvertantly, my modus operandi is usually 'get the hell out of the way'). I took the shot off the inside of my thigh, where there is zero protection. I'm finding the bruise and associated swelling quite fascinating. You can actually see the track down the middle where the puck hit!