I’ve been spotting since yesterday. At first, I was okay with it because I had some spotting last cycle the day before my first ever positive OPK. I went to bed last night hoping I’d get that positive today and I could totally dismiss the spotting.
That didn’t happen. This morning’s OPK was just as negative as yesterday’s, and the spotting continues.
I am trying to relax. It is what it is. I have no control over it. I have no choice but to sit back and let things run their course.
If only it were so easy.
All anyone can say is, “Hang in there—it’ll happen.” It’s Catch’s mantra. My mom says it with a reassuring pat of my back. My friends say it with the wave of a hand and the clink of a wine glass—“To making it happen!”
The thing is, NOTHING is happening. Every time we think we’re on the right track, someone throws a curve ball at us. Catch can hit the shit out of curve balls—me, not so much. There’s good reason why I never want to go to the batting cages—I suck.
I am wishing on all of the stars that this will turn out to be ovulation spotting. I really am. Realistically, I think it’s unlikely—except for last month, I have never had mid-cycle spotting. I feel like I am being torn in two between my desperate wishing and my inability to gag and blindfold logic and lock it in a closet somewhere.
Side note: My mom is leaving for a trip to Europe for two weeks. She’s not springing for international cell service, and isn’t taking any devices that would give her email access with wifi, so we will essentially be incommunicado for the duration of her trip. Confession: I am 32 years old and have never in my life gone two weeks without talking to my mother. Ever. Is that weird?
Related: She begged me to go on this trip with her, but I refrained because of this baby business. If my body fails (once again) to give us the chance to inseminate this month, I will have missed out on a freaking trip to Dublin, Paris & London FOR NO GOOD REASON. Imagine how well that’ll go over with my current emotional state. Hah.