All Akimbo: Testing 1, 2, 3 …

I’ve been charting my basal body temperature for over year and a half now. I have to admit that I was utterly flummoxed by the whole charting thing before I got started, but now it’s something I spend five minutes (or less) on every day. It’s as easy as … well, I was going to say pie, but it’s really much easier than that.

I keep a thermometer by my bed, pop it in my mouth as soon as I wake up in the morning, and record it in this handy-dandy (to quote liberally from “Blue’s Clues”) notebook, and voila! When I see a clear temperature shift on my chart, I know I’ve finally ovulated. At least that’s how it usually works.

My charts were proper, near-exemplary ovulatory charts every month… until the laparoscopy I had last cycle.

Following surgery, I had a cycle with no ovulation – the first one I’ve had as far as I know. And this cycle, my first post-op, my temperature is all over the place.

The “notebook” I use to track my temperature and other fertility signs is actually a website, (You can sign up for free, but to get the extras that save my so-called sanity I pay $16.95 every three months. There’s a charting tutorial, there are experts who will respond to your questions within a matter of hours and there are message boards where you can talk to people in situations similar to your own … let’s just say I’ve gotten my money’s worth and leave it at that.)

Anyway, when I plugged in my temperature today, Fertility Friend changed my ovulation day – again (I’m telling you, people, for the last year and a half, Fertility Friend has told me every cycle that x was my ovulation day and, by golly, x it stayed.). AND it told me that today’s temperature drop and the spotting I’ve been having last night and this morning could be implantation-related.


I’m not buying into that hooey. Or … wait, am I? Nooooo. I’m not going to get my hopes up this time.

At least I’m trying not to. Everyone who’s hoping to conceive feels the same pee-on-a-stick urge that I do, true? Any time there is the slightest possibility – no matter how remote – that you might finally be pregnant, you think about the woman-who-tried-and-tried-to-have-a-baby-and-then- lost-hope-and-stopped-worrying-about-it-only-to-get-that-surprise second-line-on-a-pregnancy-test. You’ve all heard of her, no? (If I had a nickel for every pregnancy test I’ve wasted because of her I would be rich (although still infertile), yessiree.

Deep down, I know this cycle is going to be a bust just like all the others in the past forever and a half have. And I refuse to set myself up for disappointment. No matter what my fertility friends say. But maybe I’ll buy a test just to prove them wrong. (That’s rationalization for ya …)


  1. I related so strongly to your piece. I was an FF junky while TTC. It was grueling and full of pain and heartache. It is good practice to moniter your cycles but hard nto to become obsessed. If you ever want to speak with someone who has “been there, done that” please feel free to contact me. With blessings and good wishes, Lauren

  2. Hi Lauren –
    Thank you so much for taking the time to write a comment. You can’t imagine how much it means to me to know that people like you are out there, listening and understanding what all this feels like.
    I’m so sorry that you suffered through infertility, too, and I’m heartened to learn that you have made it to the other side. I would love to talk with you sometime soon.

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