SHOCK AND AWE.

So, my period was due three days ago. I haven't even let myself get excited about the fact that it was late, because I knew it was coming. All the signs were there: oily skin, crampy abdomen, sore breasts. It was like mother nature was trying to torture me by dragging it all out somehow.


This morning I wake up thinking, "good STARS just hurry up and start already! How long is this gonna take?"


Then, my brain kicks in. Oh yes, that annoying, obsessive Kristi-style worrying. I haven't peed on a single stick all month. So really I have no clue what is going on with my cycle. I don't even know if I actually ovulated this month! Obviously something is wrong. If I'm not having a period, then I'm definitely not ovulating, and if I'm not ovulating then I'll *never* get pregnant.


So, I wander into the bathroom, annoyed at the thought that today is Saturday so it will be two more days before Dr. Garcia's office opens and I can call and tell him: SEE I told you something was wrong, now I'm not even having a period!


Thinking that, of course I'll need "proof" of my statement when I call, I dig out my gigantic trusty bag of sticks and pull out a pregnancy test. Only the 7,452nd test I've peed on over the last eleven months. Or at least it feels like that many.


I've become so adept at the whole pee-on-a-stick-process (which is a true artform, by the way), that I can literally do it without even looking. And would you believe, that when I finally got done washing my hands and grumbling about my misery, I glanced down and saw a second line?


A SECOND LINE!


I blinked several times thinking surely my eyes are playing a cruel trick on me. But the longer it sat, the the more clearly I saw it. In complete disbelief I walked to the top of the stairs, and called down to James "ummm, could you come up here please? Like RIGHT NOW!"

Before he's even in the room I'm waiving that stupid stick in his face. We are stunned. Overjoyed. Terrified. All at the same time.


Thank you Jesus.

The wretched week of sadness

Oh yes, all the ladies know just what I'm referring to. Men, if you're hyper-sensitive to girly-stuff then please avert your eyes:

I started my *&$%@! period again.

I can't even begin to describe the heartbreak. I'm so over it. Every single day, I wake up and pee of some type of freaking stick. On cycle days 6-14 it's an ovulation stick. On cycle days 20-27 it's a lab-grade home pregnancy test. Some time between days 25 and 27 I usually collapse in anger and disappointment, throw the stupid thing across the bathroom, and bury my face in bed.

I have been doing this for TEN solid months now. And I'm done.

I have been begging James since May -- please, I need a break. The emotional toll is too high. Every month I get my hopes up ... the anticipation, the excitement, the hopefulness, and then inevitably .... the crushing disappointment. Months ago when I decided to name this blog Riding the Rollercoaster, I had no clue just how accurate that would be. I feel like I am on a never-ending rollercoaster of ups and downs. After a while, it becomes more than a normal person can handle. I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE.

I need some time to relax. I need to throw away the calendar. To ditch the ovulation kits and pregnancy tests. I need my sanity back.

Hence, my repeated requests over the last several months for a "break". Just for six months? Three months? Something? I need to stop obsessing and get my focus back on life again. But my husband .... my dear sweet husband so desperate, so longing for a baby .... keeps begging me to give it one more month.

Well not anymore. I officially give up.