Well, either the OPKs were wrong...or perhaps I've developed a Luteal Phase Defect. Either way, my cycle started with spotting on Sunday, only a week or so after the tests tell me that I ovulated (though other signs would lead me to believe that I ovulated sooner...thus further confirming that I really have no idea what's going on in my body). So, 34 days...not nearly as text-book as it was last month with my perfect 28 day cycle, but hey, it's relatively regular for me, so I guess it's acceptable. I feel like I'm constantly trying to convince myself that anything within 35 days is "normal".
I'm starting to feel like maybe this just isn't meant to be--at least not now; perhaps not ever. I'm really trying hard to not play the "woe is me" role. That statement isn't coming from a place of pity, but rather, of a place of acceptance. Since getting my hormone imbalance relatively under control with diet and exercise, this is the longest I've gone without getting pregnant. Yes, we tried a full year before our first loss, but that's when my cycles were crazy. Since then, my three subsequent pregnancies (and one live birth) were never "easy", by any means, but they all happened within a couple of months of trying. We're now going on ten months of actively trying--on top of a year of hoping that I would somehow mysteriously and beautifully end up pregnant while nursing.
I'm not going to lie--I'm kind of tired of trying so hard. I'm tired of eating all the right things and doing all those crunches and feeling like I always have to be so darned careful. I'm tired of trying to guess at interpreting symptoms. I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm tired of wondering.
My mom says that I have an "all or nothing" approach to life. I don't think I know any different, especially in the world of in/fertility. I've asked my husband to pray about what he thinks God wants us to do. When I tried to convey to him, through frustrated tears, what I was feeling when my cycle started, his immediate response was that we could just take a break. That's not necessarily what I wanted to hear. But continuing to try wasn't quite the response I was looking for either. For once, I didn't want his immediate opinion. I want God's direction, and I think I'm a little too wrapped up in it to hear Him clearly. So perhaps my husband can do some listening for me.
Then again, I have days like I did yesterday when Ella and I had a hard time getting out the door on time, and I was left wondering how I would even manage to survive if I was indeed blessed enough to have another child. I know I'd find a way to make it work, but maybe that was God whispering, ever so gently, that it's not meant to be...at least not now.
I'm blessed this weekend to go to the football game with Ella. Since we live in the desert, so many of the games are evening games, and it's past her bedtime. My parents did bring her to a late game the night before her birthday, but they left at halftime. She's been talking about the football game ever since then, so I'm really looking forward to a "mommy-daughter date" with her tomorrow while my husband is out of town.