The first couple months of charting I was obsessed with it. I just loved clicking all those boxes, making note of my mood, energy level and anything else I could possibly tick. I was a newlywed charter, and it was exciting and wonderful.

These days charting doesn't get much thought. The honeymoon over, I, literally, do it in my sleep. I somehow find where I've tossed the thermometer last, stick it in, listen to the beeping until the "finished" beep sounds, and toss it back down, all without waking.

And the only box I bother ticking anymore is "Sleep Deprived" - usually to indicate insomnia getting in the way of my three hours of sleep. I keep thinking if we had more accurate boxes, it might've held my interest longer. "Sleep Deprived" just doesn't quite capture "RE appointment in the morning - IIIIIIEEEEEE", nor does "Increased Appetite" accurately portray the feeling of "Chocolate... NOW."

Then again, even though I check my CM every day, I don't bother marking that down, either. But, really, is there anything interesting about vaginal fluids? Oh, wait...

Fertility has a language all its own. One I've thankfully gotten slowly accustomed to over years of learning PCOS. I can't imagine how overwhelming it must be for a newcomer during their first visits. I still even get HCG and HSG confused if they're talked about too close together.

Today's visit was wonderful. We waited 45 minutes past our appointment time to be seen. The poor anxious nurse couldn't find my vein if it had a neon sign blinking "poke me" on it. There was a baby fussing somewhere in the back, and I could see the weight of it on the faces of the couples around me - holding each other a little tighter, wincing away from it.

But it was still wonderful. I'm in the place where every visit makes me feel hopeful. I know that can change all too quickly, but I'm holding onto it while I can.

We sat down with the doctor, first, and went through all the tests - and everything was perfect. Prolactin was normal, Shawn's SA was normal, I'm STD-free, and not a carrier for Cystic Fibrosis. The only thing concerning at all, I already knew about, and that's being O+ blood type. She ran down the plan with us, and asked us (with a big smile) if we were excited.

The plan goes as follows: I call tomorrow, past 3, for pregnancy test results. If negative, I start Prometrium again. 10 days of that, wait for period. Day 1, call the office to schedule a baseline sonogram. Get Clomid script (which means we won't be sending it off, bleah). Schedule "learn how to shoot up HCG" class. Take Clomid 100mg days 3-7. Come back for second sonogram day 12ish. Shoot up HCG. Have lots of "timed relations". Then spend two weeks crossing our fingers.

If this cycle is a bust, next we'll try 150mg Clomid. If that's a bust, on to an HSG. If there's nothing on the HSG, we'll try Clomid with IUI, then injectibles with IUI.

But hopefully it won't come to that, and this beautiful mixed up language will be something that I know just for the sake of knowing.

PS:

Instruction: make sure your nails are perfectly manicured while stabbing yourself in the belly.

Sometimes the weight of a negative pregnancy test hits you even when you completely expect it. I knew I hadn't ovulated, why on earth did I get my hopes up at all? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

So, today. Today I've been having a little, tiny, complete nervous breakdown.

I waited until 3:20 to call the office to make sure I didn't have to call back for calling too early. The rest of the day is a bit of a jilted sequence I won't get into. Basically it involves me bouncing between sobbing myself sick and distracting myself with a bunch of random web crap.

I'm fairly certain at this point my psychosis today is less about the end of the last cycle and more about the end of the next one.

I'm terrified. I'm completely, out of my mind, terrified of a negative next month. And beyond that, terrified that we'll hit that wall of what we can afford to do at this point.

I'm sure it'll pass, once things start moving, once I have something to do, but it's what I'm caught up in right now. My eyes raw and burning, my hands shaking.

I'm a little crazy today. I'm sorry. I'll try to be better tomorrow.

I could get crack easier than Glucophage.

Last cycle on Prometrium I had insomnia. This cycle I've slept wonderfully - not going to bed before 2am, but not getting up before 1pm, either. I was asleep almost before my eyes closed. Today's my first day without and I'm definitely not asleep. The tachycardia from the Effexor's not letting me breathe properly enough to meditate myself to sleep, either.

I'm a progesterone addict, apparently.

This is also day 5 sans-Glucophage, courtesy of it taking a million years for our pharmacy to put some pills in a bottle and stick the bottles in an envelope and the envelope in the mail. My sugar's all screwy - I can feel it. And I don't like it at all. I bounce between being dehydrated no matter how much I drink (evidenced by the chapped lips) and shaky/dizzy. I need to eat better. The Fruit Loop diet can't be helping, part of a nutritious breakfast or no. Tomorrow at the store: Milk, Bread, Veggie Patties, Flax Waffles. I still have fruit, it just keeps getting buried in the back of the fridge. Oh, and pads. I somehow think my cup isn't going to work when they're shoving the ultrasound rod where it's supposed to go.

Tomorrow we go to find out if there's any promising looking follicles. I'm nervy. Not about the ultrasound itself. So many virtual strangers have seen me naked this year that I wonder why I'm not stripping and getting paid for it. Or at least selling naked pictures of myself. Stripping is too much work.

I'm nervous about the results. The technician wasn't particularly promising last time, and that has me on edge. I so don't want this cycle to be a bust from the get-go. I need at least the hope of ovulating. And not spending another $133 on a third ultrasound wouldn't be too bad of a plus, either (these days I am thinking of money in ultrasound-units).

I'm tired of failing. Tired of waiting.

I'm impatient and bratty.

It's small, but it's promising. 14mm, and on Sunday morning, we'll be up at 7am to be at the Tampa office to see if it's gotten to at least 19mm. I'm sending this bitty thing all my positive energy. But our technician said to plan on a Sunday night trigger, so I'm really hopeful.

There are so many mixed messages in this cycle. My chart's insane, my hormones were visibly out of whack until this morning, and now I'm back to the persistant physical pain part of the cycle. Shawn's been really cute - telling work "the egg's not ready" when he had to tell them why he'd be late again on Tuesday, and telling me, in response to my yearly craving for Chicken McNuggets - "are you trying to kill your follicle?"

Now we're both disappointed and gloomy. Me crying during our try-to-catch-egg-before-it-dies sex, him in the bathroom at work.

When we went in on Sunday, the follcile was only 15mm. When we went in on Tuesday, it was gone. We are hoping that means ovulation. I'll know next Tuesday when we go in for P4 (progesterone) bloodwork. We could get pregnant this cycle, it's just not very likely.

Also on Sunday, the technician got a clear view of both ovaries, and they both looked fine.

Next cycle, we're upping the dose of Clomid to 150mg in hopes of getting more than one follicle and adding LH charting to ultrasound checking to better pin down ovulation. Not to mention, we'll NOT be waiting on trigger to have sex like we did this cycle.

We also found out our insurance will pay part of injectible cycles if we need to go there, which is a big relief.

So, now it's just the P4 test, stocking up on pregnancy tests, and being prepared to start over with more knowledge than we had last cycle. We have the next three days of him being off to snuggle and recover.