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Well, apparently my body was tired of all my bitching - and decided late on day 37 to decide to start the deluge. And sweet mother of god - deluge it was... so heavy that it was over in a day and a half.

So - we start over.
again.
and again.
and again.

I am tired of starting over. I am just tired in general of this whole process.

Of course, this means, that I should ovulate around Christmas day - which puts an IUI out of the question this month - that will be tabled to January at the earliest now.

M. and I went out to eat last night - and we were discussing the recent article about laptop usage potentially decreasing men's sperm motility and count. M. uses a laptop every day - about two or three hours a day - and has done so for at least the last five years. We know that his motility is a little slow, and his explanation is that he has simply cooked them. As much garlic as he eats, he has decided that he simply has sperm scampi.

O.k. it may not be funny to you - but I laughed so hard at the table last night that my sides hurt. I love that he makes me laugh. This is why I want this man's children.

Yes, because he's handsome.
Yes, because he's brilliantly intelligent.
Yes, because he's wonderful and sweet.

But mostly because of his sense of humor. I love that when everything in my life is bad, he is the one person that can always makes me smile. He makes this whole frustrating hurtful process a little less painful and a lot more tolerable.

I am so happy I married my best friend. Even if he does have sperm scampi.

Magnetic Ribbons of Displeasure

If there is one thing right now that I hate more than the MILLIONS of those damn magnetic faux ribbons on the backs of people's cars right now (and I hate those to the point that it makes me want to foam at the mouth...) it is my body, specifically my reproductive organs.

----- Begin rant ------

I mean seriously - who doesn't support the troops, or want to cure breast cancer? And at least - at LEAST - if you must have one of these atrocities on your car, please - in the name of all that is holy, do NOT put it askew so that we can all read "support our troops" in lovely blue script in our left to right paradigm.

And before someone goes off on how I'm unpatriotic and I don't care about our troops, I invite you to kiss my big flat glow in the dark white ass. I wholly support our troops. I just do it by sending money and care packages over, and protesting the war, trying to vote for people who will bring our soldiers home and increase their pay... rather than sticking a $1 tacky ass magnetic faux ribbon on my car.

And why is it that big SUVs (i.e. Hummer drivers especially) seem to have a competition to see who can have the MOST ribbons on their cars? I saw one with SIX - yes SIX of these clinging on desperately to the rear door. What are they compensating for?

--- End completely irrelevant (potentially PMSing) rant ---

Dear RO (reproductive organs) - and whoever is in charge of you.

You and I have had a rather contentious relationship over the last 25 years. I mean, I was literally born menstruating (something to do with excess hormones from my mother wreaking havoc on my itty bitty reproductive organs). I started my period when I was only eleven years old (and oddly enough, after staying up and watching "Carrie"). I was the Alpha female with consistent 28-30 days long cycles. Other women's cycles tended to move to coincide to mine.

I remember being about age 4, and making sleeping bags for my barbies with my step-mother's maxi pads. I remember reading "Are you there God, it's me - Margaret" by Judy Blume at about age nine, and being so excited to think about when I would finally get my period, although I never understood what the hell the A&P was in that book (a grocery store?)- and being thankful that we don't have those belted contraptions anymore. I remember during my rather scandalous youth (yea, I'm not disclosing the age here) praying that my period would come, begging God that if he would just make me not pregnant, that I would be the world's most chaste and pure woman... (thankfully he listened, because I seemed to have a problem holding up my end of the deal).

I remember late nights crying with pregnancy tests sobbing in my college dorm room, too afraid to take it - too afraid that I fucked up - literally. I remember when M. and I were first married, and I miscarried, being thankful - because we were so financially unstable. I wanted to bring a baby into the world only when we had some "us" time under our belt, a comfortable financial situation, health insurance, etc.

However, today is now day 38. The home pregnancy test I took three days ago was negative. I have had extremely light spotting for close to five days now, but no period to speak of. This shit is getting old. M. said I'm the only person who can go through an entire box of tampons without actually getting my period. So besides just being rude, you are now wasting resources. I may be singlehandedly supporting America's cotton farmers right now.

So, let's get this show started. I have never been this late before and not been pregnant, but when I was pregnant before - I never spotted at all, so I am pretty sure that I am not now 'with child' or 'with embryo'. Besides, now you are completely screwing me out of my next cycle, as if I start today, I will ovulate on Christmas Day. I won't even drink in front of my father, so having raunchy sex (even for baby making purposes) in his house with around 40 of my other relatives there, is a little out of the question.

BAH! You are making me extremely grinchy. EXTREMELY. I am beginning to seriously dislike you.

20 cycles and counting...

Last night, I was cleaning under the bed, which - by all accounts is a frightening endeavor in a house with 2 long-haired 20 pound cats. I found a christmas card from my dear friend Heather stuck to the underside of the luggage I keep there. Inside, she asked how the baby making was going - and I smiled, but then I realized... that was a YEAR ago. M. just laughed. As he said - "we've had a productive, just not a reproductive year."

Over the last 20 cycles, I have seen some mild fluctuation. My cycles have ranged from 26 days to a fluke cycle of 37 days (which was a chemical pregnancy - with alternating positive and negative HPTs), but average out at 29.63 days long, not counting this month. (In reverse order = 34(?), 27, 31, 31, 26, 32, 31, 31, 31, 29, 28, 28, 28, 28, 37, 28, 28, 30, 32, 27). A lot of the longer months I credit Clomid with lenghtening my cycle.

So I know that I shouldn't be excited about today. Today is day 34, on a completely unmedicated cycle, and I don't have any honest idea as to when, or if, I ovulated this month. And if it was on a "normal" schedule, then I certainly would not be pregnant, as we didn't have sex anywhere near the "right time" for that. But I don't know what to say, am I late? Where the hell is my period?

M. and I were actually hoping that I wouldn't be pregnant this month. Our lease is up in August, which is when I would be due -if *hypothetically* I was pregnant. Aside from the fact that we drank quite a bit over the Thanksgiving holiday, I'm not exactly hoping that I am knocked up. (Did I really just type that with a straight face? Am I trying to convince you - so you don't think ill of me for my bad judgment, or am I trying to convince myself?)

But it's day 34. Other than the chemical, I've never been this "late". I haven't had any cramps to speak of... which I am normally nearly incapacitated with prior to the onset. I took a pregnancy test on Day 28 which was negative. But that's been six days ago now.

What is going on?

So for your viewing pleasure, a "what the fuck" haiku...

Sigh. Day Thirty-Four.
I need an answer quickly.
Sanity at risk.