My temperature dropped today. It’s not an unusual thing for the end of the month, but it was something of an unusual cycle. I didn’t ovulate until well after 20 days (I’m not exactly sure when), my temperatures have been zig zagging, and on Monday, I saw a teeny tiny drop of blood. I thought I might be pregnant again. The timing was right, and I thought that maybe it was implantation bleeding.
Today is the 31st day of this cycle, which is just insane for someone who needs medical intervention to get over 27 days. And while I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, a tiny part of me is still holding out hope. It probably will be until I see blood, and then I’ll hit a depression for a few hours. And then I’ll start planning for the next cycle.
It’s a cycle that I’ve gotten used to over this pregnancy planning thing. I don’t really like it, but I don’t hate it either. I’ve gotten used to the ebbs and flows of my cycles, though they’ve been less consistent after miscarriage than they were before.
I don’t really know if I have a point, or great insight, but I suppose I feel compelled to mark the month where I would have given birth and the true end of this particular journey.