O-Watch Update (aka Better Late Than Never)

On Monday, in my fertility monitor angst, I thumbed through the 30-page manual (not kidding, 30 pages) and found this:

“Clomiphene citrate may elevate estrogen levels and this may result in High Fertility being declared early in the cycle and more High Days being displayed, and in some cases the Monitor may not show Peak Fertility even when ovulation occurs.”

I’m not on Clomid this cycle, but I was the past 2, so I decided to go with THAT theory. Surely I was ovulating, the monitor just wasn’t picking it up.

I had decided to do BBT this cycle, even though the last time it made me totally obsessive, since the sudden lack of monitoring (post IUI) just felt too... dataless. But with the fertility monitor confusion, I was glad I had started. At least I’d be able to see the post-ovulation temperature rise, and even though I never saw the Peak indicator, be happy and content that I really did ovulate, and have some chance in hell of being pregnant in a few weeks.

Tuesday, Wednesday... 2 more days of High fertility on the monitor, no Peak. And my BBT was unreliable with my stupid cold and slight fever and restless sleep. 

Started feeling a bit better last night, and when I woke up around 4:30a this morning, I popped the thermometer in my mouth in case I couldn’t get back to sleep. Usually I just roll over and look at the temp when I get up, but I was so sure it was going to show a rise, that I turned on the bathroom light and snuck a peek. 97.3, basically my pre-ovulatory average still.

I climbed back in bed, and my mellowness started to crumble. I felt the knot grow in my stomach and the feelings of frustration and confusion and worry and disappointment all start to rise. I felt, well, pissed, thinking of another month passing with no hope. My patience and optimism had run out, another dip in the emotional roller coaster. Cue tossing and turning.

Then lo and behold... I got up a few hours later, dutifully peed on a stick, and to my surprise... one-eyed monster peering at me, Peak Fertility on the damn monitor. Hot damn. CD-frickin-19, and Miss O finally decides to make an appearance.

So I’m a week late to my two-week wait, and part of my brain is still worrying about why this cycle is so screwy (menopause, anyone?), but at least I’ve gotten in the game, and a glimmer of optimism has made a comeback. 

Don’t know what this means for my luteal phase or AF arrival date, but Dr. B had already directed me to start taking progesterone 3dpo, so hopefully that will help mitigate it. I had lining issues the past 2 cycles with Clomid, so maybe that extra week means I am going to have the thickest fluffiest damn lining ever, that is going to make the perfect home for the perfect little egg about to pop. Yeah, I’m going with that for now.