My basal body temperature spiked this morning, indicating that yesterday was probably the big day.
With a few more days of temping, I’ll know for certain.
For the first time in months, we didn’t use an ovulation predictor kit.
I just couldn’t do it.
What else haven’t we done this month?
Have sex on an insane schedule.
Count days until ovulation.
I also may have slipped on my new no-caffeine rule. Just a little.
It was all just getting to be too much.
Last month was kind of a breaking point for us.
I can’t say what we’ll do next month if this cycle is a bust, but I can say that this month was easier.
My heart ached less and I appreciated all that I do have even more.
I didn’t look at my chart, but rather, I looked at my two children.
I didn’t count days, but rather my son’s little boy toes, reciting, “this little piggy went to the market…”
I didn’t obsess about this next baby, but rather watched my first baby glide across the stage in her first ballet recital.
I lived in the small moments.
I feel freer and more present than I’ve felt in a long while.
In a sense, I feel like I found myself again.
And it’s been so lovely.