I work with a lot of animators so fun stuff like this tends to pop up on my Facebook feed all the time. That, and lots and lots of Star Wars trivia.
Today I will be busy stapling my hands to my legs in order to stop myself from peeing on all the things. I’m 12DPO…this weekend will be the make or break as to whether or not my bladder infected egg got fertilized this month. Hubs jokingly said that the fact that we had to rush to the ER at 2AM to deal with my bladder infection during the week of ovulation means that we HAVE to get pregnant this month because nothing in the Decyst household is ever lacking drama or flare. God, I hope he’s right.
Symptoms: Aside from the huge sore boobs (which I also always get as a PMS symptom), I got nothing. I’m not exhausted, not bloated, not peeing frequently, not eating up a storm, I have no cramping or twinges…nothing. The only thing I noticed that could possibly have been the teeny tiniest of symptoms was yesterday I rode on an elevator with a guy who I swear smelled like stale urine. It was revolting. I asked my friend if she smelt anything, and she said no. And the answer is yes, I’m grasping at straws here.
I’ve been too afraid to temp this morning (12DPO is usually when my BBT takes a nose dive), but yesterday morning it was still up at 98.7, and it was over 99.0 during the day. I’m just keeping those numbers in my head and praying that the bitch doesn’t show tomorrow. Or Sunday. Or for the next 9 months.
Hubs and I decided that I would not pee on all the things this weekend. I just don’t want the depression if I get a BFN tomorrow to ruin my whole weekend. Blissful ignorance is my MO these days. If AF shows up, I’ll angrily rip open a tampon and have a glass of wine. If she doesn’t, I’d rather have the crushing disappointment or elation happen on Monday (15DPO).
And now, I’m off to bitch slap this work day and get my weekend on.