Pfft…

I am, what, about 10 days post-ovulation. My boobs are sore, and I am sitting here with cramps. I REALLY wish that this wouldn’t happen if I’m not pregnant. It annoys me, vastly. Because even though I know chances of conception are, well, slim, there is still a part of me that is hopeful every time I have two rocks sticking out of the front of my chest. And that’s the part that gets disappointed.

I’m developing a theory, that perhaps, on these months where the second part of the cycle sees me wince every time I take off my bra, that perhaps conception is occurring. It’s not every month, for sure. I wonder if the poor little bugger is dividing away, looking for a nice place to bed down, and then doesn’t quite manage it. I don’t know if that even makes sense, physiologically, but it’s a theory, I suppose.

Perhaps himself should equip his sperm with drills so that the poor embryo has a fighting chance? Or even No More N*ils?

I had a friend over for lunch the other week. She’s pregnant, I know she is. My infertile pregnancy radar was blaring away so loudly I’m surprised she couldn’t hear it. I tried to enquire, nicely, stopping short of  “Damnit woman, is that a food baby or a real one?” but she wasn’t playing. So in my perhaps twisted way, I decided to tell her that I was worried we couldn’t have a baby, and the fact that that is really hard for us to handle. Just to make her feel slightly more awkward. Perhaps not the best idea I’ve ever had, but I was having an “I’m feeling bitter and infertile” day. We all know those.

She hasn’t contacted me since. I wonder why.

In the slightly brighter end of the spectrum, I got accepted for a degree course I’d applied for, and really wanted to get onto. So in October, I will officially be a student again… 6 years after I last was.

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4 responses to “Pfft…

  1. Yay for being a student! Yay! And double, nay, triple yay! Quadruple even!

    Oh, the uncertainty and wondering, how I hate it, how I hate that our bodies keep TAUNTING us. I send you hugs. Many many lots. And hand-holding. And cake.

    Worst friend-secretly-pregnant thing for me – H emailed our very dear friend to tell her we were having yet another goddamn miscarriage, and he added, somewhat hysterically (he was upset, poor sod), that we were wondering what their plans were, after all, they were the same age as us and still hadn’t sprogged and it’s not so easy as everyone keeps saying it is *sob*, subtext, please don’t blind-side us with an announcement. They emailed back to say sorry you’re having a hard time and cancelling their planned visit to us, which wasn’t to be for another THREE MONTHS, because, I quote, they wanted to finish building their fitted wardrobes. TWO MONTHS LATER they called up to tell us they’d actually conceived a few weeks before us and when H was emailing them in tears, they were having check ups and seeing their baby’s heartbeat etc. And now they were safely out of the first trimester and were telling everyone. By phone. Chirpily. I have never, EVER, forgiven them.

    • Huh. I don’t quite know what else to say about your friends, except that I can see why you’ve never forgiven them.
      And, poor H. That makes me want to hug him too.

  2. Sperm with added no more nails sounds like a good idea. Or maybe that is why it is so sticky anyway…

    What are you studying?

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