'tis the stage I'm in. Sigh.........................
So I had my second RE appt on Tuesday, and got good news and bad news. The good news is that I OVULATED! *cue choirs of angels singing!!!!!!!* The bad news is that this time around (unlike last time) it appears that male factor is an issue.
We're hoping that my husband's bad habit of hour long hot showers to relieve the stress of finishing a dissertation for a couple months almost every night is the culprit, and he's since stopped doing this *incredibly stupid for someone who is t.t.c. and only to be overlooked by two not quite with-it people* thing. Sure seems like it would be an issue, doesn't it?
So today I am deep in the stage of hope management. Even though my RE said she was surprised we'd ever conceived "spontaneously" with his counts the way they were, I feel like my body is hyper-sensitive (Do I feel nauseus? Was that a twinge of boob pain I just felt? Am I extra tired?) and it's annoying me. I remember my old PCP (best doctor ever) saying that every single early pregnancy symptom is something you can create in your mind, so we are all better off just waiting for our periods. Easier said than done. I am actively trying to rewrite the tape in my mind to look forward to getting my period on Monday since it's the first period I'll have gotten that is not provera or bc induced in, oh, I don't know, forever. Since maybe I was 14. But it seems that little bit of hope keeps creeping back in.
Last night I was thinking of how I could tell my husband I was pregnant by putting a little "I'm the big brother" shirt on my boy and just having him walk in to get my husband up one morning. And then I got so mad at myself. How dare I feel hope?
So I wonder what the right thing to do is. A part of me still feels like I should indulge my hope because what use is there in being disappointed before I need to be, especially if I don't need to be. But I do hate looking a fool, if you know what I mean.
At least I'm busy today.
9 or 10 dpo
1500 mg metformin
Believer in Miracles (hard not to be when one sleeps in the next room.)