Later and lighter than I have been recently.

October 19, 2007

So. My period was late this month–by only a few days, but it was enough to get my hopes up. Lately I’d been having 23 and 24 day cycles, and by yesterday I was on CD 26 with no blood in sight. No cramps, no spotting, no nothing.

I know it’s ridiculous to start thinking you’re pregnant when you’re not only just on CD 26–which is to say, not even to the number of days of a “normal” 28-day cycle!–but when you’d also only had sex once during the relevant days of the cycle. Believe me, I know it. But you know how it is, dear reader. You start counting back and thinking hmmm…, then the day when your period was expected comes and goes without incident, and all of a sudden that big green light starts flashing in your brain. “MAYbe!–MAYbe!–MAYbe!” says the flashing light. Some other, more rational part of you says “Girl, don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you know how unlikely that is?” But you know, then the squealing “Wouldn’t that be GREAT?! And my due date would be early July, which would be PERFECT” sirens start to accompany the flashing light, and pretty soon rational voice is completely drowned out by the din.

But I finally got a tiny bit of spotting late last night, and it’s now become real bleeding. So today is CD1, meaning last cycle was a 26-day cycle, a longer cycle than I’ve had for a few months. I assume that’s a good thing, although it might also just mean that I ovulated a few days late–I’ve been traveling for work a lot this month, so that might explain my cycle being wonky (although 26 days used to be “normal” for me, so who knows?).

One small consolation for waking up to yet another cycle day 1 is weighing myself this morning and discovering that I’ve officially lost twenty-five pounds. Is that not simply crazy? If you’d asked me six months ago whether I thought I could lose that much weight I would have said no way. I had a real illustration of what that 25 lbs means yesterday, too, because I had been away overnight for a conference panel: coming back from school yesterday, I had an overnight bag with me that weighed around 14 lbs, plus my big black purse that on a regular day weighs around 5 lbs (this is bad, I know) but was probably a pound heavier than normal because I’d put a few extra toiletries in it. That’s a total of at least 19 lbs, maybe 20, that I was carrying over my shoulders.

When I came up the two flights of stairs at my subway station yesterday, I could feel these bags literally slowing me down, causing me to drag my feet and struggle against the weight to pull myself up the steps. And I realized–hey, until recently, I was carrying more than this much extra weight on my body! No wonder I was so often exhausted and felt so uncomfortable in my skin. I’m very glad that there’s so much less of me to love right now.

By the way, shout-outs to a couple of fellow black women dealing with infertility–Kim and Deathstar–who both left comments on my last post and whose blogs I’ve been checking out. Between them, Loren, and the other folks I’ve been reading regularly, I’m going to have to put together a blogroll soon.


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