Margaritas and a home cooked meal were indeed the ticket.  Ideally, we will give it a go a couple more times over the next few days, but the pressure is off.

Now.  So remember how last time I was worried that something else would go wrong, now that we have the ovulation problem fixed?

My new obsession is with how light my periods have been.  Before I went on the pill, I usually had periods that lasted eight days.  EIGHT.  And they were often quite heavy and painful, to boot.  (Clearly my teenage self was being punished for being such a smartass.  And maybe for her bangs, too.)  I remember one particularly bad period in college where I laid on my bed crying from the pain and took seven Advil in a row.  I knew this wasn’t a good idea, but the cramps was so bad that in the moment I didn’t care what happened.  I just wanted it to stop.

And yes, I know that if the pain was that bad it probably would have been a good idea to go to the doctor and go on the pill.  Guess where I went to college?  Notre Dame!  So not done there.  After college, though, I did go on the pill, and I was in a nice, happy place of four to five day periods with little pain.

When John and I started trying to conceive, of course, I had no periods, and I got pregnant without having one first.  So now, following my miscarriage, is the first time that I’ve been ovulating since, oh, 2002.  And the thing is, they are really light now.  I usually have two days marked “medium” on Fertility Friend, and two days marked “light.”  This is even lighter that when I was on the pill.

Of course, the worrier in me assumes that ZOMG I IS BROKEN and decides to inquire with Dr. Google.  As far as I got was Dr. Google’s waiting room, which is filled with other women who have asked this same question.  I haven’t found any real answers.  But I’m worried that the D&C somehow damaged my uterus or something.  Maybe the scraping was too thin.  Or maybe there’s an adhesion or something.

Or maybe my body’s just changed with time.

Have your periods changed over time?  Or are you just disgusted by an entire post about my periods and want me to talk about something else next time?

So, here we are – positive OPK today.  We’ve got fertile cervical fluid.  Now I just have to try to get my husband into bed as much as possible before I actually ovulate.

(The Sperm Meets Egg plan devolved into the Shit, I’m Tired.  Maybe Tomorrow?  Plan, by the way.  But we tried!)

I have to say that the thought of actually getting pregnant doesn’t even seem like a remotely likely outcome at this point.  I mean, I know that it’s not actually all THAT unlikely.  I’ve managed it before.  It’s just that I’ve been unsuccessful for so long that it feels like I’m just … broken.  It feels like a motion we have to go through until we go back the reproductive endocrinologist.

(Assuming that we can afford to go back to the RE, of course.  Which we probably can’t.)

Anyway.  We’re having margaritas and a home-cooked dinner tonight.  Hopefully that’s good for another shot at a baby.

My husband and I are on day six (or so) of the Sperm Meets Egg Plan.  Basically, this means that we do the deed every other day until I ovulate, plus that day, and the day after that.  Then we can rest for two weeks until I either get my period or see a positive pee stick.

I don’t know about y’all, but – DUDE.  That is a lot of deediness to be done.  Especially if you tend to have later ovulations, like me.

We’ve never really been quite as active as the Sperm Meets Egg Plan suggests.  My sex drive was pretty low for years thanks to my over-exercising and eating disorder – the same thing that led to my hypothalamic amenorrhea.  Now, things are much better in that arena, but every other day still seems like a lot of work.  After thinking about it, I have compiled a list of Unsexy Things Killing My Sex Drive, Not To Mention My Husband’s.

1. John’s Unemployment! With a side of lethargy and depression.
2. Not to mention the yooge mortgage on our house and resultant anxiety.
3. Middle of the night phone emergency phone calls from my employer.
4. Three dogs and two cats watching you do it.
5. A mother-in-law in the guest room for two months.
6. My thighs feeling about the same size as my mortgage.

What about you?  Do you ever struggle with baby making sex?

Here it is, CD1.  I didn’t get pregnant last month, but I’m strangely optimistic about this new cycle.

You see, my last cycle was 29 days.  TWENTY-NINE DAYS.  As I am used to cycles in the vicinity of, say, 267 days, a cycle of 29 days felt like a whirlwind of bloating, eggs popping, and PMS. Twenty-nine days is, dare I say, “normal.”

As far as we know, the only problem that we had with conceiving was that I wasn’t ovulating due to my hypothalamic amenorrhea and lower-than-necessary body fat.  Now that I appear to have fixed that problem by expanding the size of my rear end, things should be okay now.  John’s had a semen analysis, and the swimmers are good.  I’ve had an HSG (my fallopian tubes are clear), a crapload of bloodwork (my hormones are normal), and enough checks of my uterus and ovaries that I barely even notice when I have an ultrasound wand shoved up my lady business anymore.

I’m a little afraid, though, that now that we’ve solved our big problem, we’ll find another one.

I hope not.  I hope this is the month.