I guess I should be thankful in some odd way that I don't have some crazy long luteal phase. Clo.mid has given me pretty consistent 28 or 29 day cycles so I knew I wouldn't have to wait long to find out if this month had been just another bust. I spent all day yesterday in a lovely place of both hope & optimism, as well as resilience and resolve. I aimlessly searched through charts on fertility friend that looked like mine, comparing my symptoms and such, went to bed with thoughts of how I would tell Matt, and dreamed about cherub faces. So of course, I wake up to Aunt Flo and all her cramping glory (and seem to have lost most of the feel good thoughts of yesterday.) Like ripping off a great big band-aid all at once. I'm thankful that I don't have anything to do until this afternoon. I have to go pick up my Maid (err, Matron) of Honor dress with the bride and then I have a meeting with a potential doula client tonight. That particular meeting could have fallen on a better day but such is this odd life I live. I was telling a friend today about how sometimes I feel like a bit of a masochist, even if my passion for pregnant women and the glories of childbirth came before the infertility. I really love what I do and can't imagine ever wanting to do anything else but right now it just seems like self cruelty.
We got a very beautiful, light dusting of snow while I slept and there are still quite a bit of flurries coming down. Since the high is only 25, it's pretty likely it will stick around and look pretty for a while. Watching my dogs lose their minds in it seems to cushion the blow just a bit. I have to pack for my weekend long board meeting at some point today and then I get to be fake and cheery for a couple days. I also get to start the Clo.mid again while I'm there which should add an interesting bit of emotion to the whole ordeal.
I want to ruin this whole eating healthy, losing weight, running a 5k track and eat a bowl of chocolate icing right now. But I won't. I guess.