Tag Archives: fertility charting

15DPO – not likely

I’m thinking of abandoning charting and instead just taking a pregnancy test every two weeks because staring at graphs is not conducive to a relaxed state of being.

I have the cross hairs moved, removed and re-added. I am convinced at this point that no ovulation has happened yet but Fertility Friend is holding on to hope worse than I am. It took my cross hairs away on Thursday, then re-added them yesterday and put enough doubt in my mind to make a take yet another test. I’m beginning to think that there is some sort of conspiracy between them and the manufacturers of pregnancy tests. The only test I had in the house was a digital but I figured that if by some random chance I was actually 15DPO even a notoriously not-very-sensitive digital pregnancy test would pick it up. I peed on the stick. I sat it down. I waited.

I waited.

I waited.

Digitals are worse than regular tests I believe. At least with a regular test you can see what is going on. You can ummm and ahh as the dye washes across it and squint yourself silly wondering if there is the beginning of a line there (or if you actually pregnant you can rejoice in seeing it appear almost immediately). The digital test on the other hand just presents you with a little hour glass and a minute or two of stomach knotting anxiety as you wonder…. maybe, just maybe.

Not Pregnant.

Those are awful words to see, even when I wasn’t truly expecting to see Pregnant. While the little hour glass was flashing I did make the internal little prayer. I argued with myself about how I could be wrong and maybe it would be positive. I briefly fantasised about running upstairs to tell my husband and then feeling terrible because I had a couple of glasses of wine last night.  But alas it was not to be.

I had my second reflexology session this week and the only inference the therapist could draw from my feet is that I am stressed. No surprises there. Between that stupid chart, the on-going flea war, caring for three young children and attempting (and failing) to prepare for 2 rather important upcoming exams I am extremely stressed. Emotionally I’m in a bad place of feeling angry, resentful and very put-upon. That is probably not helping the ovary situation either.

So what do I do?

Well I think I may up my agnus castus dosage again. I started on 200mg, then moved to 400, maybe it’s time to ramp it all the way up to 800mg. The wisdom of the internet suggests to may take around 3 months to work. I’ve probably wasted the first month on such a low dosage. I also need to switch my focus back to looking after my body right. The last couple of weeks have seen my healthy eating habits fall to the wayside and I’ve gained around 7-8lbs since April. I think it’s time to crank out a large batch of zero point soup and some vegetable curries. I may even be time to take the cellophane off that Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred dvd I bought and get over my fear of actually doing it.

Tomorrow or the day after they are bound to tell me “we can no longer reliable predict an ovulation date.” I can live with that. I just hope next time they appear on my chart it’s for real.

Stress and a wee trip to Westeros

It’s been a stressful couple of days. After the reflexology session to Monday I took our cat to the vet. We never intended to be cat owners but during a particularly cold snap at Christmas this kitty showed up on our front door. We felt sorry for him and took him in while he tried to find his owners. I went knocking on doors with my eldest daughter and we put signs up in our local shop but no one ever claimed him. When the thaw came he skipped out the back door and we thought that was it, he was away home again, but a couple of hours later we re-appeared so I guess whether or not we wanted to be cat owners he had adopted us. We were a bit lax about it though. We fed him, dewormed him and deflea’d him but it took us a couple of months to get around to organising pet insurance and then the very important vaccinations and neutering operation. On Monday it was vaccination time.

Imagine my mortification when the vet was examining him and then let out an “eeeeew! he has fleas!”

Really she looked horrified. Like I’d brought a turd in and dropped it on her examination table. I couldn’t understand it, the cat had been flea treated only about a fortnight ago. I investigated matters further and discovered that my husband had used some Bob Marten spot on de-flea stuff I’d bought (and never used because I heard it’s rubbish) instead of the Frontline that was sitting in the cupboard next to it.

When I got home with de-flea’d cat I began the task of treating the house. I then discovered our vacuum cleaner had broken down, so after spending £50 at the vet I had to go and spend another £50 buying a new hoover (and yes, it’s an actual hoover). I then started stripping sheets, vacuuming, dosing everything in flea spray, and citronella spray. I sprinkled a couple of bottles of salt over the carpets (my best friend swears by this for killing flea eggs). I’ve seen 2 fleas since then, all in my bedroom, all in the process of biting me. I hate this. My skin crawls at the very notion.

To top it off I discovered the next morning that I had an assignment to do for my masters course that I knew nothing about, and it was due the next day. Oh and I did a pregnancy test and got a BFN (that’s a big fat negative for the uninitiated). And my thermometer is dying, my chart looks awful and I think it’s fairly safe to assume that I am not in the two week wait or enjoying any kind of menstrual cycle whatsoever.

Yesterday was spent in a panic trying to get the assignment done, bribing my children with all manner of food to keep them quiet and out of my way (it was bad, really bad. there was crisps, biscuits, ice cream, chocolate and dinner care of Dominos). I needed to relax and break the tension last night though so I stuck my family in my best friend’s car and we headed off to one of the locations where they are currently filming Game of Thrones.

We had an amazing time on the beach. We took our shoes and socks off and paddled along the waterline all the way to the far side of the beach where we found eight foot tall statues of the seven gods of Westeros just waiting to be burned. It was (and I don’t use this word lightly) awesome!

The assignment is done, the flea war continues, the cat has been consigned to sleep in the kitchen, I’ve got a new thermometer and life goes on.

And the nerd in me is absolutely delighted.

Crunchy Granola Vs Science Girl

There’s a big dichotomy in my personality, on the one hand I’m a trained scientist, a thorough sceptic and completely anally retentive. On the other hand I kind of want to be a hippy. I admire the people who get through the whole nine months without asking what flavour their baby is (I never managed it). I admire the people who take a laid back “let’s see what happens” approach. The problem with knowledge is that once I learn something, I can’t unlearn it, I can forget huge chunks of it, but a nugget of it will remain.

I’ve talked before about how easily I’ve fallen pregnant in the past, but I need to be honest here, when we last decided that we were going to have a baby I got organised. I signed up for Fertility Friend membership, I ordered a bunch of ovulation tests from eBay and I picked up a fertility thermometer. There was a solid month where not a single day passed that I didn’t pee on something.

Last summer we started talking about having another baby and in anticipation of my fertility coming back I did all of the above again and drove myself completely nuts for 3 months before I gave up. I think I permanently damaged my eyesight in that time too squinting at tests trying to will a second line into existence.

I have some romantic notions about how I want to do it this time. I want my crunchy granola side to reign, and crunchy granola is not at home to graphs and statistics. I have idle fantasies about just relaxing, about not testing from about 7 DPO onwards, about having my husband there when I take the test and letting him tell me the result, and finally about staying resolutely team yellow.

Yet I found myself this morning waking up and sticking a BBT thermometer in my mouth AND then resurrecting my old Fertility Friend account (albeit the free version) to record the verdict.

I can’t fight the annotating lab coat wearing me.