I've never been any good at directions, not instinctively anyway. The performance of my milky mini mes does go quite some way to confirming this.
I do read a mean map though.
In the same way, in this trying to conceive process it's hard to figure out where you are sometimes, until you stop and gauge your distance from reference points, look for a landmark you recognise and then you can see how far you have left to go.
Now, we're in the 24th cycle. (That'll be 2 years if you tell the time by howling at the moon, the actual two calendar years is a little bit away yet.)
This current cycle is scheduled to end in the last week of February. We have an appointment with the specialist on March 11, which is bang in the middle of the following cycle. Cycle 25.
That means essentially that the start of any intervention is at least two cycles away.
We are supposed to discuss intrauterine insemination (IUI), or good old artificial insemination in old language. (I'm not sure why the name was changed, maybe too many comparisons with cows. Which I fully intend to continue, regardless.)
The specialist had mentioned that we could discuss whether we want to look at unmedicated or medicated IUI, and while I would have previously preferred to try unmedicated first for it's lesser side effects, we are sorely tempted to just go for the best chance of getting a pregnancy, which is medicated.
We'll have the 'drugged up and knocked up' special please and thank you very much.
Should the doctor conveniently forget that this is the purpose of our upcoming consultation, I will beat her to death with the nearest object, which I seem to recall would be a ceramic uterus.
Luckily for her the model of dissected male reproductive organs is up too high for me to reach, no one wants to be sent to meet their maker by half a willy.
So there we are, another full cycle before meeting the doctors, with at least two before anything can really happen.
In the meantime, it's back to waiting for the red menace to piss off out of here, the tiger thong, the ice pack, and the compass.