Well, what I haven’t mentioned recently is the fact that my temperatures have been sky-high for the last three days.
Higher in fact, than they have been in the last seven months of charting.
Today, at 12dpo, with a temperature of 98.8 I was 98% certain I was pregnant.
I was so pleased that I had a fantastic, solid BBT at this point in my cycle.
I thought for sure that it meant I was pregnant with a baby that was going to stick around this time.
Hell, I was so hot from all the progesterone pumping around my body it must have been twins!
AF sent me a little letter this afternoon, in the form of the start of the 100% predictable, 2-day-spotting I get before she bursts into my life and frightens my laundry.
Hey, I know you really thought you were going to have a baby this month instead of me, but sorry, no can do. It’s not my fault darling, you should have a word with that uterus of yours. She’s not happy, and until you work out why, using the power of psychic and wordless communication, she’s gonna keep opening the floodgates and nothing is gonna stick. Looking forward to seeing you again old friend, AF
So here I sit with a very large glass of wine, slightly red-eyed, but still hanging in there.
Tomorrow morning I’m off to the hospital for a pelvic ultrasound, so maybe my uterus will communicate the problem to us all then and tell us how to escape this barren landscape I have been stuck in for so long.