Reflections from the other side of fertility

There is a certain deference I feel to fertile women. It's subtle, but definitely present. It reminds me of the class system in India. Fertiles flock together, infertiles stay with their own kind.

I passed a pregnant woman the other day. Almost unconsciously my gaze looked down as we passed, as though I somehow shouldn't be looking directly at her. It was almost a feeling of shame- that is, until I caught myself doing it and overanalyzed the incident.

Last week was a very happy week for me. Today- not so much. I was inseminated on Thursday, January 15th. On 8 dpo, I had a slight amount of spotting. I really felt pregnant. I was convinced that this was my cycle. My husband, normally a skeptic, jumped on the hope bandwagon and we were riding that wave of exhileration. That is, until Day 11. I awoke to a bloodly mess. Yes, aunt flo had shown up with a whole party of clots. I'll spare the details. The bottom line- I'm not having a baby just yet.

When I went into the doctor this morning, a bit hungover, Dr. T noticed a cyst in my ovary, leftover from a follicle from last cycle. My unterine lining was quite thick as well. Given my spotting on day 8 and then the short luteal phase, his opinion was that I may actually have gotten pregnant, and then miscarried. He ordered some bloods and cancelled this cycle. Better to wait and let my body come back into balance.