showing signs of the period coming.
funny how you can forget, forget that you are infertile. Forget that unprotected sex, will not equal pregnancy. That pregnancy will not equal real live baby. I started to forget. My body reminds me on day 29, every month.
I can still recall the absolute darkness that seemed to swallow me up after this last miscarriage in March. I can recall the feeling of my spirit being ripped apart at the meer thought of every being pregnant again, and knowing the depth of the loss again. Because the innocence was gone- pregnancy no longer equals child being born in my life. I remember thinking during this last dark time that I would do anything in my power to NEVER conceive naturally again as I have no confidence it will ever result in a RLB. And I feared my spirit couldn't live through the pain again. All walls were up.
The walls slowly melted away without me realizing it. And has been replaced with a hopeful spirit. .... And I am not sure how I feel about that. Is it truly hope? And should I hope? Or am I just in denial, as a way to exist right now?
Whatever it is, I will say it is a lot easier to function day to day, I can promise you that much. But am I functioning day to day as if I am a non-infertile? I have started counting the cycle days again, planning said deed with husband accordingly, noting cervical mucous changes, I even bought multiple HPT (what was I thinking?). And this cycle? It was textbook! Egg white cervical mucous on the proper days, and even a twinge/cramp that I knew I was ovulating- (that is a bit rare in my world). Hubby and I were on vacation- enough said. The rest was up to our biology. We did everything right within our control. Every-frickin-thing.
And then I am reminded. It doesn't work that way for us. The spotting on the toilet paper brings me back to reality. And I find myself in a wave of grief and relief. Grief that "Damnit! THIS IS HOW IT IS SUPPOSE TO WORK! why doesn't it work for us?". But then also at the same time relief. Relief that I am spared from suspense of that first ultrasound, laying in a dark room, waiting, praying, and then seeing it in the face of the technician, and knowing that my world is about to be shattered again.
I don't know if it is hope or denial that I am living in right now- maybe both? Either way I don't know how I feel about it. If it is hope, and my world crashes again, will I survive?