A couple of months ago, when I wrote about getting 2 nos every moth, I was really starting to hit the end of my rope with the BB. It started around P+6/7 and went until CD1 every. single. cycle.
But today, I'm on P+10 and all of my post-peak stickers are GREEN! That's right. No. brown. bleeding/spotting. at. all.
Praise God! and thank-you Dr. S.!!!!
It was the one thing I was really frustrated over - no one (even Dr. S.) seemed overly worried about all of this BB, but I knew it wasn't normal and I also was getting pretty sick of my charts being covered in red stickers and all of the practical implications of it.
So this is all great news. Except for my nerves.
It's P+10, and usually on P+10 I've already realized I'm not pregnant and even though the hope is still there, it is much more tempered than pre P+7 because consistent brown spotting is obviously not a good thing. But, today, I'm forcing myself to steer clear of Dr. Google. Especially since I have no "early pregnancy symptoms" to search for and make myself crazy with.
Yet, can I just tell y'all how high my hopes are? I've already planned how I'd tell everyone. I've calculated the due date; I've started picturing our spare bedroom as a nursery (something I haven't done in months) and we'd rearrange the other bedroom; and on and on and on.
And I'm scared.
Last year, the end of February marked one of the lowest points on this journey. Yes, we'd only been trying a little while, but it was the first month that I had truly convinced myself that all of my symptoms were pre-pregnancy symptoms (you know the symptoms I had every. single. month. prior) and that the BB was really just implantation bleeding that was lasting a long time, and, well you get the idea. So, I went out and bought a pack of pregnancy tests (for the first time in my life) and I figured out the day I would get to use one. It would be the morning after we were going out to dinner with my mom, Nan, and stepdad to celebrate Mom's birthday.
That dinner turned into my own personal nightmare with my Nan saying at one point "you can't just decide not to have children. You can't deny The Man being a father, you can't take that away from him."; with me going to the bathroom to find that I couldn't deny myself any longer, that AF had arrived; and with The Man (while I was making said bathroom trip) almost yelling at my Mom and Nan asking them "what do you want from us? Do you want us to tell you when we are trying? When we get a positive pregnancy test? What?!?"; and me returning to the table fighting back tears to an uncomfortable silence and so glad I had ordered a glass of wine to sip on (to avoid questions) because I don't think I'd ever needed a drink so bad in my life.
And here I sit. One year later, almost to the day. Full of hope I truly haven't felt since February last year. Trying to temper the hope. And still, because it is what I do, hoping that CD1 never comes.
Prayer buddy, I'm offering it all up for you!