You know, if I’m not going to be pregnant this month at least my body could be kind enough to not leave me in a constant state of pain.
It started yesterday, five days past ovulation. I noticed it as soon as I woke up – a dull ache in my lower abdomen. You know how period cramps are sharp, twisting, stabbing pains that come in waves and make you double over? This is just an even, consistent pressure type pain. It hasn’t let up once since it started.
Don’t get all excited or *wink wink nudge nudge* on me, I know exactly what this is. It’s caused by the damn extra progesterone in my body following ovulation. I had this ache when I was on the crinone gel. Yes I had this pain last time I was pregnant, but that is because I was on the crinone gel. It was because of the progesterone, not because of the pregnancy itself. It’s just a cruel trick my body is playing to mess with my mind.
I was hoping when I woke up this morning the pain would be gone, but no it’s still there. Digging away at my insides. Constantly reminding me that I’m in the two week wait, when I’m desperately trying to push thoughts of ovulation and pregnancy to the back of my mind.
The first few days after I ovulated I did really well and hardly even thought about what was going on inside me. I was so busy at work, and then I ended up coming down with a cold. Unable to take cold and flu tablets, and finding myself super fatigued, I had two days off work where I lay in bed, watched my X Files dvds and imagined how I’d have made a great FBI agent if I was remotely athletic, taller, stronger, or you know…American.
But then I went back to work and I didn’t have Mulder and Scully to distract me anymore. Now I’m getting impatient and the constant cramping isn’t helping the situation one iota.
I have a theory as to why I’ve suddenly lost the ability to bury these thoughts of pregnancy. It’s because IVF has spoiled me. The last embryo I had transferred was a day six hatched blast. The doctor told me hatched blasts usually implant within 24 to 48 hours if they’re going to implant at all. Mine was right smack bang in the middle of that timeframe and I got my first positive on a pregnancy test five days later. And here I am on day six of the two week wait, and I have at least another four or five days to stew before I’ll get any sort of real indication as to whether I’m pregnant. This is driving me bananas.
You know how in cricket, when things are taking too long between balls the crowd begins a slow clap? That’s what I feel like this is. My mind is starting a slow clap. My mind is ready for things to happen now. Unfortunately, my mind has a fair while to wait.
The good news is tomorrow is the weekend so hopefully I’ll be able to keep my mind off everything and distract myself again. Then it’s Monday and I’m on the home straight to my first pregnancy test which I’m planning to take on Wednesday morning (eleven days after ovulation) but realistically I don’t expect to see anything until the end of next week. Or anything at all, because let’s face it…it’s highly unlikely I’m pregnant.
In other completely non-fertility related news, I gave my health freak, sugar adverse husband a bowl of mint choc chip ice cream last night. I didn’t shove it down his throat, he asked for it. Usually he’s happier eating a bowl of raw grated beetroot or steamed spinach. I guess he wanted to try something different. Something from my filthy world of calories and fun. And then he giggled. For an hour. I’ve never seen anything like it! He was like a seven year old on a sugar high.
We were watching our Prime Minister Kevin Rudd on television, being interviewed by a journalist. A few times he used the phrase “can I be frank for a minute…” and that’s all it took to set him off.
“He’s Frank Rudd!” Doug laughed, tears streaming down his face. “Frank Rudd! Frank Rudd!”
After he finally stopped rolling around on the floor dying from laughter, he proceeded to give me a blow by blow of every text message he and his best mate had exchanged that day about football. It was at least half an hour of non stop drabble and he barely came up for a breath. By the time I got to bed, my head was throbbing.
Note to self: if we ever do manage to have a biological child never feed it ice cream.