I actually feel almost like my "old self" in the days between when I realize that I cycle didn't work and when I have to start the medications again for the new cycle. I miss her. She was a fun gal. She spent her money on pedicures and Starbuck's, not pee sticks. She weighed about ten pounds less, wasn't bloated to the point of pants not fitting right. She laughed more and cried less.
I remember what it was like before my first miscarriage. I remember when my husband and I made love, for the express purpose of doing just that. Not for timing, baby making, sperm count, anything. Just fun.
I remember when I could go to Target without crying as I pass the baby aisle or cringing as I run into yet another melon belly. I remember being able to pick out gifts for baby showers and the arrival of a new baby without saying, "Screw it. They're getting a gift card. And not even a cute baby one. They are getting the one with the red spotted dog on it."
I remember when I could pee without thinking about how long to hold it or what type of stick (OPK or HPT?) to hold in the stream. I remember when I didn't wipe afterward and check either hopefully for EWCM or pray that there was no blood.
Yes. I remember all of that and more.
That's why these few days are kind of nice. No tests, no obsessing over symptoms. I'm still bloated, but at least I don't have to show a progesterone pill up my vajayjay.
But don't get comfy. Because I'm pretty sure tomorrow will be CD 1. It begins again.