Ups and downs, originally written January 22nd, 2014.

See the disclaimer here.

Forewarning: Get ready for a some lingo that only serious trying-to-conceivers use! It's like trying to learn a different language when you first start. I'll try to walk you through it gently, I promise. 

January 22, 2014

I don't want to give the wrong impression with all of my positive, inspirational ramblings that swirl around this blog. I still have bad days.

I think I've done an okay job (I hope) of portraying both ups and downs through different posts on this site but it's important to note the fluctuations. Some days I wake up to the sun shining on everything and than there are the other days, when all I can see is clouds, and it's a struggle to let any rays come streaming through the grey. And many days, in fact, go all topsy turvy on me and one minute is bright and the other dark and gloomy. It just depends on the day. And probably my hormones.

So in an effort to be transparent, here's a little preview of my week so far. All was going well, as probably seen through my last post, when boom, out of nowhere my temperature plummets on 9 dpo (days past ovulation). That's never happened to me in the 5 months I've been taking my temperature so I was immediately, secretly, very happy. Implantation dip anyone? I was so anxious to see the next morning's temperature, wanting to will it back up to confirm my hypothesis that implantation had occurred, that I swear to you I couldn't sleep. It's like all of the anxiety that I've kept at bay for the last month decided to linger on this one morning. And alas, my temperature did leap back up, but no higher than any of my other post-ovulation temperatures (meaning it probably wasn't implantation). I was immediately crushed... until I did a lot of googling to reassure myself that this can happen and still result in that allusive BFP (big fat positive). THEN I did a very, very bad thing. I used my one and only pregnancy test. I should have known better. Really. I mean, really? After all of these months, I should know that no matter how much I reassure myself beforehand that I can still be hopeful after seeing a negative, I really can't. It just makes me tailspin into a world of doubt.

And that brings me to now.

My thoughts are circular these past few days. They go a little something like this:

I had that huge dip. Maybe it was implantation. I wouldn't be able to even get a positive for a few days after anyway. What was I thinking taking that stupid test so early? I'm suuuure in a few days it will be different. I can't wait. I'll be sooo excited if it's positive. Maybe I can hold out until Friday. Imagine the cute ways I could announce it to hubby. Ugh, what am I thinking!? I already know what Friday will bring. The same thing the past few months have brought and then I'll be devastated all weekend. But hey, at least I can drink and work out in peace! That dip was probably just me taking my temperature wrong somehow. Stupid dip. Well, or maybe it really waaas something. I've never, ever, EVER had something like that before. But today it went back down. It should be getting higher, right?! Definitely not pregnant. And I think I feel cramps anyway. Wait, is that maybe good? No. Bad. Definitely bad. Don't I usually feel kind of crappy and gross before I get my period? I'm so getting my period. This sucks.

I'd love to actually have a little counter. Like maybe God could ding every time I think about my temperature during the course of a day. I bet the numbers would be staggering. And embarrassing, considering no matter how much I analyze or reassure myself, it won't change what's happening. It either happened or it didn't. Sometimes I think of all the months that I play this same game for the week before my period and I'm so sad at the thought that it was all for nothing. Here I am, hoping there's some microscopic cell form floating down to bury into my uterus, and really there was nothing. The sperm never even made it. It's pitiful how much hope I cling to and how sure you can sometimes feel.

My mom yelled at me the other night for calling it a failure. But how else can you describe the crushing feeling you feel after every month? It was a failure. A failed attempt at getting pregnant. There's no sense in beating around the bush. It's just that.

And so, I'm pretty sure, regardless of my temperatures teasing me this month, that I am not, in fact, pregnant. I feel a little sad knowing this deep down. Sad for myself for still trying to hope. But then, a woman stopped by today at my office and explained she had her baby inside her car and could only pop in for a second. She was older. Like, visibly older. And she would NOT stop mentioning her new baby. And as per usual, I started to feel that ugly tinge of jealousy. Like really?! This older lady can do it and I freakin' can't. And then something happened. She mentioned her baby was adopted. And suddenly, without a blink of an eye, my heart overflowed with tenderness for this lady. Clearly she was a new mommy and just couldn't stop talking about her new baby, a baby that she had probably worked sooo hard, harder than I ever have, to meet. Sometimes adoption seems like a lovely option. It's like the light at the end of the tunnel telling me that I can still possibly have a baby, if I want it bad enough. If all else fails, I can still end up with a baby. It's never not a possibility, me, having a family. And that really is reassuring.