There are some optimistic notes to sound here, I think.
Twenty-nine days is better than 17, or 23, or even 25, and certainly better (at least psychologically) than the occasional dreadful cycles that drag on to 40 days.
Two positive OPKs this cycle, on CDs 16/17, about 10 hours apart.
Assuming (with a unavoidable modicum of POFfer skepticism) that I ovulated Day 17 or thereabouts, that's a 12 day luteal phase.
I can make my first phone call to The Period Hotline (yes, it really is called that, that's not one of my joke names) at The Fertility Clinic, reporting in for IVF. Which I will do if I get light flow by 3pm; if not, and it's only spotting today, I'll hold off till I have full flow. I can't do an IVF cycle yet, on account of needing to take the DHEA/CoQ10 for several more weeks, but every period and phone call brings us closer to that possibility. Any kind of forward motion brings a faint whiff of optimism.
Now for the movement in a minor key -
Not pregnant. Not that I thought I was, but hope (some version of it) springs eternal.
I had an appointment with Dr. Q. yesterday. She was optimistic, pleased with the cycle length, asked me if I'd tested for pregnancy. I said "No." She asked "Why not?" to which I could only mutter, with profound eloquence "I don't like testing." "You are afraid of being disappointed," she elaborated, helpfully. Yeah, something like that. She continued to be enthusiastic for me, beaming at my needle-forested belly and saying: "Let's hope there's a baby in there!" I was unable to share her eagerness, though I couldn't give any reason for it, other than beengoingthroughthiscrapfortwoyearsandnothingtoshowforit, and because I have a sense of when my body has, yes, not conceived, yet again. Or possibly not even ovulated, despite the positive OPKs.
Mainly, in this case, because I had almost no rise in temperature.
The chart makes it look not too bad, because there was a small rise relative to my lowest BBT (36.07C). But other than the spike on CD 14, my temperature never went above 36.28. Usually in my luteal phase it will rise to 36.60C or higher.
So I had no real hope, although something always springs to life, whatever is hardy enough to exist in the vacuum of air that forms before the wrecking ball strikes. I still have some of that, but mainly I've adopted a Stoic philosophy toward all this. On the good days.
I fully intend to have, if not a good day, then at least a purposeful one. There's laundry and yard cleaning to do, after all.