The two-week-wait concept cracks me up. It feels more like a 31-day wait. Or a series of two-day waits… over and over and over again.
I am antsy pretty much every day of the babymaking process, waiting around for the next opportunity to be one step closer to a pregnancy. When my period starts, I’m already looking forward to taking the next round of letrozole on cycle day three. When I’m through the letrozole, I’m impatient to be able to start testing for the fertile window with an ovulation predictor kit. When that’s wrapping up, I’m counting down the days until I can have an ultrasound to see my follices. Speaking of which…
I went in to the doctor’s office yesterday on cycle day 14 to get a looksie at this month’s progress. There were follicles (yay!) but they were all too small to do anything with at this point. Since I’ve been having long cycles, my doctor decided it was best to come in in a few days and do another ultrasound. So, again… I wait a few days.
In the mean time, I’ve been taking another stab at using an ovulation predictor kit. They haven’t been so reliable in the past (my OB/GYN says this was because of the PCOS) but the reproductive endocrinologist we saw gave my hormones and ovaries the all-clear. I’m on cycle day 15 and have seen nothing but a dumb circle on the tests. More waiting. Come on, hormones!
Ironically, the one thing I haven’t been sitting around antsy for is the day I get to take a pregnancy test. That’s only because the last few cycles, I’ve gotten a call from the doctor’s nurse on or around cycle day 24 telling me my levels were too low to even have ovulated… let alone for pregnancy. I’ve tested anyway (you never know, right?)… but that’s been the one week out of the month that I have had peace of mind knowing there’s nothing exciting ahead.
And then of course… it starts all over again.