This is the part of my life I call…optimism.

One week to go to my gyne appointment.

One week to go until I (hopefully, if there is anything good and holy in this world) ovulate.

I won’t be surprised if I don’t ovulate next week, but if Murphy’s Law holds true, I will ovulate and the gynedoc will say there’s nothing wrong with me, and she’ll send me home, and it will be 4 or 5 month until I ovulate again, and then I’ll have to go back to the gynedoc who will start the testing process all over again.

Yup, that’s probably what is going to happen.  I don’t like that scenario very much

 

On the other hand, if I don’t ovulate next week, I’ll get my test results back and there will either be nothing wrong, at which point I’ll be able to start medical intervention (*cross fingers* yay Clomid!), or there will be 8 different things wrong with me that will take a year to clear up at which point my dream of becoming pregnant will be a very sad and distant one. I don’t like that scenario very much either.

 

This is me, hoping there is just enough wrong with me that Clomid is my best option to get my cycle back on track.  At lease on track enough for me to get knocked up. Yes, let’s go with that scenario.  I’d like that very much, thank you.