Wish I could say no news is good news, but in this particular happenstance, no news is merely (totally, consumingly) frustrating.
I knew all along that the moment the thermometer broke, I was screwed. We bought a new one, but it threw the previous temps into question, and there is always the possibility of a new thermometer picking up higher or lower overall. So I relied on other fertility signs and felt like I had a pretty good handle on things.
A four-day window for ovulation, I can work with that.
Today is 12 dpo on the last plausible day of ovulation.
And . . . nada.
No spotting, no staining, none of the usual (starting, say, 10-11 dpo) changes to cm that indicate a period is looming. Temp dropped some, but is still well over the coverline, and has held steady over the past three days (though it's worth noting that this temp is one that in past cycles would be coverline/pre-O). I've had cramps off and on. Earlier today I had cramps and though, ok, finally, here we go. Only . . . they stopped.
And as for the tests . . . oh my. Negative, negative, negative, heeeeeey, what's that? Uh, honey? Do you see that? Huh, I see something. Evap? Maybe? Noooo, it's not really pink, if I'm being honest, but it's clearly visible. Uh, yeah, it did form in the time-line. Well, I don't know what it means, honestly. It should be pink. Maybe it's too early?
Sure, maybe it is. Which could fit with the weird bloating, the oddity of tender breasts past the normal point, the skin clearing up on it's own, the on and off nausea. . .
. . . except that one expects the subsequent test to be darker, clearer, more definitive in that case. And that hasn't been my experience. Two shadowy lines I guess I'd have to call evaps on $tree tests (which I'm unfortunately hearing may be turning more prone to that sort of nonsense) and a shadowy not-pink line on FRER (where I usually see nothing). Basically - not positives. I'd like to pretend, but no. They are not positive. However, because apparently I am unsatisfied if all things related to reproduction are not satisfactorily dramatic, not negatives either, not exactly. I mean, yes, I guess, but UGH. GAH. FUCK.
The fear is lurking at the back of my mind, like a vulture waiting to swoop. The thing is that this is most similar to the cervical ectopic. And that is scary as fuck, especially knowing what I know now, which is the extent of the damage caused by that fiasco of a pregnancy. Knowing that is possible, and I am at an increased risk for ectopics generally having had one (though, honestly, the risk is much smaller to repeat a cervical pregnancy and smaller for other forms of ectopics as well) (not that I've ever been on the right side of numbers, and what about that, universe? if you're going to fuck me reproductively, the least you could do is make it up to me in lottery winnings). . . phew. Trying not to think of it.
Because at this point, whatever will happen is all set in motion. My period will eventually start (or not), tests will eventually turn positive (or not), the potential pregnancy is implanted and growing where it will (if that occurred). All I can do is try not to work myself up over it.
Yeah, I know, ha ha. But I'm trying, and that's something at least, right?
* * * * *
In other news . . . this was the conversation on the way into work this morning.
DH: I didn't sleep very well, how about you?
Me: Eh, not the best ever, but not bad. I definitely had a really nice long stretch last night.
DH: Oh, that's good.
Me: Yeah, I think Barnabas was behaving himself more last night.
(note: Barney's been banished to the bathroom -say that 10 times fast- the past two nights for egregious violations of our simple code of ethics, ie, don't fucking eat me or claw me while I'm sleeping, asshole. It goes for all members of our family, in fairness)
DH: *snort of disbelief* Really? I thought he was a little shit last night.
Me: Oh? I guess he was bugging you instead of me then, because he left me alone most of the night; at least until early morning.
DH: No, he was all over you all night. Hell, when I came to bed, he was standing on your chest and throat grooming himself. But you did seem pretty dead to the world.
Me: Really? I never noticed. Well, hell, as long as he's not waking me up, I don't give a shit. This arrangement could work out yet.