I’m angry with myself.
Maybe angry isn’t quite the right word. Maybe frustrated. Disappointed.
For the first time in a couple months, I allowed myself to hope. Yesterday, at 4 DPO, I allowed myself to be caught in a daydream of positive tests. There was some mild nausea sweeping over me, and for a few hours, I really hoped. For the first time since I had a total meltdown over my (unexpected?) period in January.
This is my last natural cycle. At least, for a while. At least that’s the plan, barring any cycle cancellations or new cysts that force us to take a month off. And that’s no reason to feel optimistic. But with that wave of nausea, I couldn’t help but think the following: 1) We timed BD really well this month 2) I just had my HSG– HSG makes you more fertile! 3) Femara really moved up my ovulation date to the earliest it has ever been! Day 16! I have never ovulated on CD 16; I have been in the 20s for a while now. Surely it’s a good sign!
I allowed myself to think: what if this is it? I could really be pregnant.
The truth is that nausea at 4 DPO means absolutely nothing. The truth is I have 0 symptoms at 5 DPO (today). And that, in the past, I have symptom spotted so much that it has made me hope– and hope, when it’s over, has made me crash down into despair, into a person I do not want to be.
The truth is that Dr Unicorn gave me a 1-2% chance of pregnancy through natural cycles.
The truth is that I’ve never seen two lines. I’ve never seen even the faintest start of a second pink line creeping across the plastic FRER window. I’ve never had a Clear Blue result without the “NOT” in front of it. I’ve never gotten an estimate of how many weeks. Because it’s been, forever, 0. Nothing at all.
On Friday, Mr Upside and I have our consultation with Dr Unicorn’s office for the upcoming ART cycles we are embarking on. Round #1 of IUI will be (hopefully) scheduled for mid-April and we will go from there.
I don’t want to hope anymore. Not right now. I want to assume the negative. I want to assume I am not pregnant, just as I have always been. I don’t want to allow my brain to dwell on miracles or mythical stories of “it happened to us when we least expected!” I don’t want to let myself go to a place where the IF journey ends– because I know, in my logical analyst’s mind, that that place does not exist. It does not exist for me, at least not now.
Here’s to trying to get through 5 DPO without the foolish, unnecessary audacity of such hope.