You Are Listening to My Current Theme Song

[Voice Over] This post is rated R due to extreme bitchiness and some offensive language. Viewer discretion is advised.

Let me start this post by saying I am a moron. In the beginning of this cycle my temperatures were all over the place, very different to my anal retentive cycles of the past. At some point FF gave me cross hairs and I, very stupidly, started my progesterone at what FF called 3dpo. Lesson learned #1 - Go with your gut. I thought I didn’t ovulate so why the hell did I decide to trust computer algorithms over my common sense? Because I am a moron, that’s why. Now I had taken progesterone already and my temps were still all over the place - and that’s when I fucked up this cycle. I knew that because of the progesterone I could forget about ovulating. So, at what FF called 12 dpo I stopped and thought the withdrawal would bring on the flow. Nope, no such luck.

Meanwhile I was schedule to start medicated cycles (maybe that is why my body shut down and said “not so fast, bitch! Don’t pump me with meds!”). My doctor wanted to start me on IUI since I was ovulating on my own (ha!), and DH has no MFI. He didn’t think a medicated cycle would help much but left it up to me to decide. I opted on a Femara + Trigger + TI (Timed Intercourse) cycle before moving on to IUI. I was to call the office as soon as my period would make a grand appearance to schedule the ultra-sound (second ha!).

Another complication of the cycle is that I will be traveling for work in mid June. I do travel for work two to three times a year. But trying to work a medicated cycle around travel schedule is just not easy. I looked at my happy path scenario - I had 30 days until my trip. Of course I had plenty of time to get my period, take the Femara, jump my husband’s bone and make it to my business trip. Look! Everything fell into place! Who knows, I might even get a BFP in San Francisco!! Third HA! With my period not showing, now my husband and I had to start the “should we do the medicated cycle now or postpone it?” conversation. Enter moronic move number two: request to start Provera.

It seemed like a logical step in my mind. No thermal shift, progesterone taken when it was not the right time, took an HPT to be sure I wasn’t pregnant (fourth HA!). It was just a wasted cycle. So let’s push the reset button, get that period going and move on with the medicated cycle. And can I have that quick too? I have a plane to catch! I called my doctor’s office, and got the prescription. 

This is the last time I ever take Provera. Whoever created that drug needs to have their balls cut off (ooops maybe the drug is not quite out of my system yet). I had zero patience with anyone. I had no desire to do anything except maybe kill whoever got in my way. For anything someone would say to me I had ten sarcastic come backs that I had to control myself not to yell it out.

Exhibit A: My mother in law showed up to visit. She knows she doesn’t have to call to come here (family is family in our world) but since when did it become ok to waltz into someone’s house without knocking on the door or ringing the doorbell? What if I were naked? What if we were fucking? Normally I would be annoyed for a minute and move on.  On Provera? For everything she would say I would think “that still doesn’t explain why you barged in my house” or “are you going to apologize at any time?” or “fantastic story can you go now so I can go back to watching my TV show?”. I felt like a psycho ready to snap. And according to my husband sometimes I looked like one too. He would say something (he would consider) funny to me and I’d stare at him. Nothing was funny.

My poor husband? He survived a week of me not talking except for barking orders. He didn’t recognize me at all and he was hiding from me for most of the week - and I don’t blame him. Who wants to deal with a pissed off 5’7”, 180 Lbs (let me add, mostly muscle), former martial artist? Not him. And all that for what? No period yet. One more week without it and the medicated cycle has to be postponed. And who do I have to blame for it? This bitch who writes you who should have known better. After all I have only been doing this for 15 months.

Now if you excuse me I am going to look for where the knives were hidden. I have no clue why the knives have disappeared in this house.