I've run out of clever titles for writing that CD1 arrived again. Oh well. The only thing my body seems able to do well is end each cycle predictably, like clockwork. 12 or 13 days post-peak, then AF. Done.
Rebecca wrote beautifully about tears yesterday, and CD1 makes me wonder: how many tears could I possible have left? Haven't I used all of them by now? My tear reservoir must be bigger than the Pacific Ocean!! Can I donate tears to a drought??
My tears don't seem to notice that we've been here before. CD1 is far from a new thing. I could tell yesterday it was coming from the aches and twinges that usually precede it.
But then again, every CD1 is different because it's grieving a different lack, a different absence, a different child that might have been. This time it's grieving that we won't have a child due around Christmas (that has always seemed so perfect), we won't have "news" to tell my parents at Easter...and speaking of that, looks like my next "fertile" time is while my parents are visiting, staying in the guest room next to our bedroom...lovely timing.
It's grieving not being able to celebrate new life in my womb while everything is coming to life outdoors. And so on.
Time to get it in gear: I have to schedule a blood draw for day 3 and then an ultrasound series for day 11 until ovulation. I guess a silver lining (grasping for anything here...) is that maybe we'll have some new, helpful information before this next cycle is over.
It is really hard to stay hopeful!!! I'm just so used to disappointment. Sometimes I daydream about how I would feel if I ever actually had a positive pregnancy test, and it just seems so surreal, like something that happens to other people.
Sorry for a downer of a post. On CD1, I set my expectations low: wake up, shower, get dressed, go to work, don't snap at Mr. M, don't cry at work, try to get something down but be gentle to yourself. There are many, many tears "inside" during work hours. Lots of grieving. If no one else sees, Jesus does.