I was perfectly content to wait 12 days to find out what was going on in my uterus, just sit back and chill and try not to think about it. We were scheduled to bunny-sit Lane’s class’ bunny over MLK weekend, but otherwise not much going on and I figure I could distract myself with things like housework and going to the library with Jake and whatnot.
Then on Wednesday night, right about when I was getting ready to head to bed, Lane comes wandering out of her room and is hanging out in the kitchen. I go to direct her back into bed, and am just overwhelmed by the massive, disgusting smell of vomit coming from her bedroom. She had puked on nearly everything on her bed. Pillows, sheets, blanket, duvet, bedskirt… nothing escaped the wrath of her stomach contents. The fireworks continued for about six hours, on a 15-20 minute interval.
Two evenings later, Jake and I both succumbed. Sunday, Frank had his turn. None of us were sick with the same frequency Lane was, but the adults also got to experience crazy diarrhea and chills.
Needless to say, I didn’t have to do much to distract myself these last few days.
And then yesterday, I spotted a little, and figured despite the ultrasound tech’s enthusiasm about our chances this month, that I guess my body still wasn’t ready to catch that train just yet.
And then I wasn’t spotting anymore for the rest of the day, and I woke up today to not a hint of anything remotely seeming like a period. And words like “implantation bleeding” start bouncing around my brain.
On top of that, ever since being sick I’ve had little spells of queasiness. I’m not sure if it’s all related to being sick, or if at some point it transitioned from being sick to something to do with my reproductive system. You certainly lose confidence in reading your own body when you spent 6 hours puking and crapping your guts out a few days previous. When I was pregnant with Lane, I started feeling queasy a full 5 or 6 days before ‘they’ say I could have gotten a positive pregnancy test, so by the time I got that positive pregnancy test it was really a surprise to no one.
So, that’s where I am right now. Three days away from testing, not sure what the hell my body’s doing because it seems to have a mind of its own. But…. it’s now 24 days since my last period, which is the longest cycle my body’s procured since Jake was born. So if nothing else… that’s something.
Bigger picture, I’m turning 34 next month. Not old by the relative standards of modern reproductive practices, but I had sort of had it in my head that I wanted to be done with all this babymaking business by the time I was 35. I didn’t want to have to deal with the specter of ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE. And Frank’s no help, at all! When I started spotting, and told him that it looks like maybe I’m not pregnant, he was definitely more disappointed than relieved (especially because he thinks it would be mega-super-awesome if I was pregnant with twins). So I say, “OK, do you want to try, then?” And he gives me an “Ehhh….” Not an “I really don’t want to” sort of Ehh, but more of a “I can’t decide, but I’m not against it” kind of Ehh. Like I said, no help at all.
I think what this means is we’re trying, but I’m just not going to really tell him we’re trying. Assuming, of course, this month’s a bust (and who knows about that). He’ll get to participate, and I’m sure he’ll ask questions about my motivations on certain days, but I’ll spare him the minutiae of figuring out the best days to try. Heck, that’s basically been the modus operandi for Lane *and* Jake, and he’s been pleased enough with the outcome. 🙂 So, assuming again this month might be a bust, I think I’ll give it about six months. I also need to talk to the grad school I want to apply to, and find out if it’s possible to defer my enrollment if I do turn up pregnant.
By the way, we did still bunny-sit. The bunny was way wicked cute. 🙂