So, half of the two week wait is over.
That is 'two week wait' number 18.
By this time next week we'll be drowning our combined sorrows, or I'll be drinking in celebration for two. Or three. Or four.
For the first time in a few months, the cycle end won't be conflicting with visitors being here. Being able to sulk when you want to is a big bonus.
Not only that, we are both on holidays from work for the next few weeks, so if it all goes down the toilet like every other time, we don't face workmates either.
Then, throw in the fact we have the possibility of a laparoscopy lined up, this could be the best two weeks of anxiousness followed by despair, misery, and disappointment that we've had in ages.
Funny how all this shifts the goalposts on what you'll accept as a 'good day'.
This cycle saw a more 'targeted' approach. Instead of the normal blitz, we took at shot at quality over quantity.
I can't help thinking that regardless of the 'all clear' on the Spencer analysis, that he still might have his off days, and timing his adventures to every second day or so might improve his chances.
So we sent him out at just the right moment again, having had more than an extra half day's rest.
Just in case we might be fooled into thinking we had done something right, our charting attempts suggest that we went too early... so we went again. Taking one for the team, so to speak.
Even now, our chart has automatically calculated that ovulation occurred two days after we believe it did (and should) so I can sum up our chances of success this month as somewhere between fanciful and far fetched.
Just about normal then...