I don't know lots of things.
I don't know a lot more than I do know, that's for sure.
I don't know why we've been doing this for 17, no, scratch that, 18 cycles now and are no closer to a starting point.
I do know I'm fucking sick of it.
I don't know why when we think we have patterns figured out that a cycle ends two days early giving us one of the shortest yet.
I do know that there is no real pattern anymore anyway, just what we want to see when we want to see it.
I don't know what the specialist will suggest as follow up treatment on September 1st.
I do know I'm terrified that she will tell us that she 'can see nothing wrong, go home, and keep trying, your chances are better that way'.
I don't know if gut feelings are entirely trustworthy.
I do know that this one wasn't.
I don't know how scrawny kids can have a quick one off squirt in the back of a car or in the bushes and get someone knocked up, and I have fucked and fucked and fucked, and can't.
I do know that is humiliating. Very humiliating.