A little more light

[H is sitting on the sodding Ikea chair that keeps falling apart, having mended it With Extreme Prejudice. We are drinking whisky and ginger ale (ooh! This cocktail has a name! It’s called a MacDonald! Fancy!) and watching gloomy Scandinavian crime-dramas. All is well on Planet May&H].

So, where were we. Oh, yes. Cycle thirty-odd, day 11. By-and-large, I ovulate on day 18, 19, or 20 (Satsuma is lazy, but predictable. And now that I’ve written that, she will Commit Shenanigans), so by next weekend H and I need to be on best of terms, and then my period, given Satsuma sticking to schedule and eschewing curve-balls, will be due a day or two after our sixth wedding anniversary.

Best case scenario, take home baby pee-stick present for H. Worst case scenario, miscarriage, timing of which would be soul-destroyingly poor. You can see I’m no longer overly bothered by the idea of not getting pregnant at all. I look back on the May who used to worry about that with the mild, benevolent concern of a distant cousin. Anyway, at the moment, not getting pregnant is quite peaceful. I think I throw up less when I’m not actually dealing with stupid piddling amounts of HCG on top of all the other hormonal crashes menstruating entails. I hope I throw up less.

Not that this is enough to actively discourage me from trying this cycle. I have burnt right through crossed fingers, hope, trust in doctors, bitter hope, angry bitter hope, and am now running on bloody-mindedness alone, but I am still running.

Madness.

But I am now officially ‘IVF’ weight, so I can only assume my lardiness is no longer so extreme that it is in itself solid embryo-poison (Caveat: I need to lose 35 lbs before I reach ‘normal’ BMI and The Professor is satisfied (35 lbs? Bloody buggering hell)). H bought fancy pre-conception vitamins for the both of us (admittedly, they were on a three-for-two offer). Dinner tonight involved broccoli in almost industrial quantities (and I cooked, for once. Yay for normality). I will be, I think, working shorter days for the next couple of weeks. So, yes, I am feeling very bloody-minded at the moment.

It could also be the daffodils. They’re just coming into flower, and the birds are courting and nest-building in the trees, and some few brave trees are blossoming. It’s so hard not to feel… bloody-minded. Sap rising, or some-such.

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9 responses to “A little more light

  • Womb For Improvement

    And my tarragon is sprouting (that isn’t a euphemism).

    Glad things are settled in the home of May and H.

  • Solnushka

    I’m glad Planet May and H are back orbiting the metaphor of something or other. And that bloody mindedness is restored. Hug for you and a gentle pat for H since he’s sitting in the chair.

    Thinking of you both.

  • Amy P

    I’m glad things are back to normal chez May&H *hugs*

    At least things aren’t due until *after* the anniversary…

    I *will* get time to work on a certain package soon. The less-important bits for it are done, and I think I may be seeing the light at the end of the sucky-paperwork tunnel soon.

  • Betty M

    Nothing like a gloomy Scandinavian crime drama to improve the mood. Are you finding the switch from Swedish to Danish disconcerting? Many episodes of Wallender had almost convinced me I could watch Scandi-crime without concentrating on subtitles.

    Glad waters chez May are no longer choppy. May Spring bring good things.

  • a

    Glad to hear there is more light on Planet May and H. I love Wallander (I may be wrong, but I think it’s just so over-the-top depressing that it’s hilarious!) and we just watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo today.

    Bloody-mindedness may be what gets you where you want to be – nothing else seems to have worked. Much luck…

  • manapan

    Three cheers for marital peace and three more for good old-fashioned stubbornness. And wishing you luck!

  • wombattwo

    Our road is not the nicest road in the world, but there is a park at the end of it. And in the road-side section of the park is a carpet of purple, yellow and white crocuses, that never fails to raise a smile as I drive past. Not long till the blossom comes, and I can pick which blossom trees I will plant in my garden at the new house (which doesn’t exist yet). my mother told me I could have a blossom tree for every season – the joy! Our house will be known as “that place where the mad woman has an obsession with blossom trees. And greyhounds.”
    Very pleased that things are better. Like others have said, it is a sign of a strong relationship that you can have big arguments without lasting consequences. Even I can feel the love between you, and I’ve never met you.
    You may have burnt through crossed fingers, but I haven’t yet, and rest assured that mine (and probably everyone else’s) are still very much crossed for you.

  • Laurel

    I was just reading the famous Julia’s archives. I started reading her around her R3dbook days and had never read all that came before. Anyway, sometime around her 8th miscarriage she talks about a similar feeling of obstinacy, nolite bastardes carborundum sort of thing. As far as I could tell, it stuck with her more often than not, and she kept going. She has a very different story, I know, physiologically speaking: a much more clear-cut problem and thus solution. But anyway, bloody-minded sounds like a good thing. Spring is DEFINITELY a good thing, god that light and warmth and green growing stuff feels and looks so much better. Your achievement of IVF weight is spectacular. Keep on keeping on.

  • twangy

    May your matrimonial planet indeed continue peacefully on its orbit.

    Good on you both. Persistence is everything, I reckon.

    (THIRTY-FIVE POUNDS? Really? REALLY, really? No! Two STONE? No way. You’ll disappear! You’ll lose your third dimension! Unbelievable, so it is.)

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