For 3 years, I have been tracking my monthly cycle. I started because I was never quite sure when it would start. Granted, I am almost to the hour regular but couldn't ever calculate 28 days. So, for 3 years I have seen the balance of my body. And in a sense, I am blessed. I have friends who go months sometimes even longer without their period and the uneasy feeling that must come with that...I have never had to endure that particular unease.
Also, I have never taken birth control. Not just because I am staunch Catholic, I wasn't always, but because I heard it said best, "Birth control is the only medicine on the market that is to keep your body from working correctly." This post is not about other people and what they think about birth control. This is not about others using birth control. This is about me and me alone. I don't hold others up to any standard except that of which they are on. If not Catholic, then not to the Catholic standard. etc...
When I said the infamous, "I do..." I took on a role of which I am not accustom: that of sex haver. Ha! I know... not a thing. But, it has changed the way I interpret my own body. My very chemical make up has changed. I have been thinking about this for some time. I wanted to make this idea a different post, but thought people would think it too odd. When I was little, I used to get clothes from a girl my age that was much taller than me. And every time I would open the bag, I smelled her. Her distinct smell. The smell of her, her family, and her existence.
From that time, I constantly think of our personal smell. I am sure that my parent's house has a smell and yet because I am so accustomed I can't pull it out of the air. Even our bodies have their own smell. Since I am now living with my husband, I have incorporated his distinct smell into my life, and it is odd. I notice the drastic change, and it often catches me off guard. The smell of his laundry. The smell of his soap. The smell of his body when he comes home from a long day at work. All of it...has now become mine too.
Okay, back on topic. This app also has the ability to track one's ovulation. I never truly cared when I was ovulating. It meant nothing to me, but I would notice at times I was moody and off. I would check the app and sure enough...ovulation time! But how accurate is it. How can this free application on my phone tell me how and when my body works?
Since our nuptials, we have been open to the possibility of children. We are 32 and 33 and are quite stable where we are. We have no reason to wait. Oh, we have had quite a large number of people tell us that we needed to "enjoy each other." I would gracefully nod my head and placate them. I knew it didn't matter how they thought I should live my life. It mattered that me and him were on the same page. And we are...
So, last Friday, my app told me I had hit the fertility window. I was at a medium headed for high chances of pregnancy. I decided to test...nothing. Negative. I had never felt that pang of disappointment. Why was I so disappointed that an ovulation test was negative? I suppose because of the 3 cousins I have that are closest to me in age...all are pregnant. Perhaps feeling a bit left out? I tested again on Monday...nothing. But then again, I think I did it wrong. Trying to hold a stick in my stream for 5 seconds is dumb and almost impossible to do! I may pee a lot, but I realize I don't usually pee for that long. Maybe need to check that out.
I started house sitting on Sunday so even if I wanted to "try to get pregnant" I wouldn't be able to because transferring sperm from Coweta to Skiatook is a loooong way. I suppose that could be rectified. Eh. No bother. Luckily, I was done Wednesday (the day after ovulation) so I could just be "home" (sexy fun time aside.) J casually asked me, "Is today a high day?" Why yes... yes it was. I retorted with a firm yes but I can't seem to pee long enough to read the stick so we will just have to go with the app.
I might have heard a chuckle from him, but a solid, "Pee in a cup and stick it in." He mentioned a coffee cup, and I couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from a friend drinking a cup of coffee trying to see if that was the cup I peed in oh so many washes ago. Scrunched nose, I went to the cabinet. "The throw away ones, my dear." Ah... yes. That does make much more sense. Okay, a travel, disposable coffee cup. This I could do.
Well, luckily I got enough in the cup to wet the whistle of the stick and watch the reading come into view...and there one day past ovulation were 2 tiny blue lines. My egg was traveling/is traveling. Oh, hell I don't know. I made him read the stick and casually asked if he wanted to keep it for posterity. "Oh, hell, why not." Needless to say we have a positive ovulation stick on the bar on a napkin (all wiped off) waiting for the other test to be sat next to it.
I will admit this to very few: I was elated. I was excited. Now...with morning. Nervous as heck fire! After taking the time to type out this jumble, I wonder why I did. Who knows. I think I just really want to remember the time I was excited to actually have the possibility to maybe perhaps have the chance to get pregnant. Oh shit. Here we go. A wild ride is about to begin!
Also, I have never taken birth control. Not just because I am staunch Catholic, I wasn't always, but because I heard it said best, "Birth control is the only medicine on the market that is to keep your body from working correctly." This post is not about other people and what they think about birth control. This is not about others using birth control. This is about me and me alone. I don't hold others up to any standard except that of which they are on. If not Catholic, then not to the Catholic standard. etc...
When I said the infamous, "I do..." I took on a role of which I am not accustom: that of sex haver. Ha! I know... not a thing. But, it has changed the way I interpret my own body. My very chemical make up has changed. I have been thinking about this for some time. I wanted to make this idea a different post, but thought people would think it too odd. When I was little, I used to get clothes from a girl my age that was much taller than me. And every time I would open the bag, I smelled her. Her distinct smell. The smell of her, her family, and her existence.
From that time, I constantly think of our personal smell. I am sure that my parent's house has a smell and yet because I am so accustomed I can't pull it out of the air. Even our bodies have their own smell. Since I am now living with my husband, I have incorporated his distinct smell into my life, and it is odd. I notice the drastic change, and it often catches me off guard. The smell of his laundry. The smell of his soap. The smell of his body when he comes home from a long day at work. All of it...has now become mine too.
Okay, back on topic. This app also has the ability to track one's ovulation. I never truly cared when I was ovulating. It meant nothing to me, but I would notice at times I was moody and off. I would check the app and sure enough...ovulation time! But how accurate is it. How can this free application on my phone tell me how and when my body works?
Since our nuptials, we have been open to the possibility of children. We are 32 and 33 and are quite stable where we are. We have no reason to wait. Oh, we have had quite a large number of people tell us that we needed to "enjoy each other." I would gracefully nod my head and placate them. I knew it didn't matter how they thought I should live my life. It mattered that me and him were on the same page. And we are...
So, last Friday, my app told me I had hit the fertility window. I was at a medium headed for high chances of pregnancy. I decided to test...nothing. Negative. I had never felt that pang of disappointment. Why was I so disappointed that an ovulation test was negative? I suppose because of the 3 cousins I have that are closest to me in age...all are pregnant. Perhaps feeling a bit left out? I tested again on Monday...nothing. But then again, I think I did it wrong. Trying to hold a stick in my stream for 5 seconds is dumb and almost impossible to do! I may pee a lot, but I realize I don't usually pee for that long. Maybe need to check that out.
I started house sitting on Sunday so even if I wanted to "try to get pregnant" I wouldn't be able to because transferring sperm from Coweta to Skiatook is a loooong way. I suppose that could be rectified. Eh. No bother. Luckily, I was done Wednesday (the day after ovulation) so I could just be "home" (sexy fun time aside.) J casually asked me, "Is today a high day?" Why yes... yes it was. I retorted with a firm yes but I can't seem to pee long enough to read the stick so we will just have to go with the app.
I might have heard a chuckle from him, but a solid, "Pee in a cup and stick it in." He mentioned a coffee cup, and I couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from a friend drinking a cup of coffee trying to see if that was the cup I peed in oh so many washes ago. Scrunched nose, I went to the cabinet. "The throw away ones, my dear." Ah... yes. That does make much more sense. Okay, a travel, disposable coffee cup. This I could do.
Well, luckily I got enough in the cup to wet the whistle of the stick and watch the reading come into view...and there one day past ovulation were 2 tiny blue lines. My egg was traveling/is traveling. Oh, hell I don't know. I made him read the stick and casually asked if he wanted to keep it for posterity. "Oh, hell, why not." Needless to say we have a positive ovulation stick on the bar on a napkin (all wiped off) waiting for the other test to be sat next to it.
I will admit this to very few: I was elated. I was excited. Now...with morning. Nervous as heck fire! After taking the time to type out this jumble, I wonder why I did. Who knows. I think I just really want to remember the time I was excited to actually have the possibility to maybe perhaps have the chance to get pregnant. Oh shit. Here we go. A wild ride is about to begin!
I'm not sure I ever told you this, but I've always loved your candidness!! Great post, Aly!
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