I awoke a few minutes before my scheduled alarm this morning (aka 4:45 a.m.--it's Flower Marketing day) to that familiar feeling of Aunt Flo knocking on my uterus door. "Ugh," I thought as I slithered out of bed, tiptoed over the sleeping dog, and skulked into the bathroom, "why now?" Well, why not now? At least she's fairly punctual. Fairly. The sad thing was that earlier in the week I thought I was supposed to get AF and I allowed myself (foolishly) to get a little excited that perhaps, maybe, possibly, she was l.a.t.e.. But, a quick review of my calendar yesterday proved me wrong by a few days, and, of course, here she was this morning, on the dot, so to speak.
And, unlike in times gone by, I didn't dissolve into sadness. I didn't get angry and frustrated. Just mildly annoyed as I popped a few Ibuprofen. A minor, albeit regularly scheduled, inconvenience.
But, all that silly hopefulness, and "what-if, just maybe..." kind of thinking over the past couple of days, had me in a really good mood. Which, I must admit, is not totally crashed-and-burned, but is much, much, dimmer considering this morning's arrival.
But why would I even let myself think for a minute that this month would be any different than the all the other months that have come and gone over the past three years?
Dunno. Eternal (guarded) optimist?
I have been trying some new fun ("fun"-?) fertility stuff though: The acupuncture, as you know. I also started using a new fertility ("fertility"-ha.) monitor, called "Maybe Baby" which I purchased off the Internet. A simple dot of spit on the little lens tells you if you are about to ovulate by the ferning pattern that appears when you look at your saliva under the mini-microscope. Quite fun to play with, actually, and much more convenient for my busy lifestyle right now than OPK's and BBT charting.
The super healthy diet and the no caffeine or alcohol thing though has been a challenge. I've sort of been off and on with the "diet" since last winter, after I read "The Infertility Cure" by Randine Lewis. I'll admit, it's much easier to do during my slow season when I have more time to plan, shop for, and prepare my meals, and I'm not always on the go-go-go. Cooking at home? What? Not till November or so, when work slows down.
But, somehow, I guess I held some hope that maybe something would shift for me.
But, no--not this month.
However, I guess, now is the beginning of a new cycle, and another chance to work on things in fertility land.
Gotta try and drink my wheat grass more often.
Ah well....for now it's okay to indulge in some much needed wine (and whine?) on the first day of the new cycle, right? I think I'll be picking up a bottle of white on the way home. I can go back on the wheat grass and sugar-free wagon tomorrow, right?
Tomorrow is another day....
p.s. As I write this, my "intern" (the 18-year-old pregnant one) is chatting away about her "bump" to one of the other girls. Oh heck. Where's that bottle of wine?!