I finally put all of my charts since December on FF. The last 3-4 months have variations of the same pattern: 1-5 days of spotting before CD1. (Well, or you could say the first day IS CD1.) I did not formerly have this pattern. I noted carefully, BTW, that it's always light-red spotting - looks like cranberry juice on a tissue I guess - no brown at all.
It's funny how all the "academic" information that doesn't apply to my case falls right out of my head (whereas I remember random geography trivia from second grade). And then a vague memory resurfaces: low luteal-phase temps and early spotting (not brown) mean low progesterone, right? Not that I haven't always had wonky levels, but I didn't have those objective signs of low progesterone before (just the endo that always seems to cause it to be low). So now I need something to fix that, but I've heard such horror stories of progesterone side effects, and if I take one of those things that raises it on that rising-tide-lifts-all-ships basis, like clomid or tamoxifen or (maybe) femara, then one of the ships it will raise is - the cysts.
Can't win, don't try.
I do need to look into the supplements for my DH (thanks much to all of you, and especially TCIE for providing the hyperlink!), and I did schedule an appointment with Tepeyac (at which I will ask about depo, femara, and HCG. And this time, I will bring documentation). This sounds insane after all my complaints, but they will not call me back about the thyroid blood draw I did weeks ago (I have now called twice to ask about it - why do I even bother?), and they are the only people from whom I could get a prescription for the Erfa supplement (and a PRN prescription at that!).
So until I find out whether my dosage needs to be raised, and get any necessary prescription, I won't fire them (and as soon as I do, I will, and find another RE). This is pragmatic bordering on the exploitative, but what am I to do? I didn't tell the regular endocrinologist to ignore and ridicule me, and I didn't tell Tepeyac to refuse to answer my calls or read my emails or give a damn whether my ovaries have been invaded by aliens. I have to look out for myself, because it's abundantly clear that nobody else is. What a complete failure the medical community is. And I don't even want anything that isn't already prescribed regularly and sold commercially.
On other fronts...the insane old people selling the house I want continue to be insane and old, and come up with associated additional drama. Most recently: they have told their realtor that they're not sure whether they want to sell - to anybody. (Their latest listing, for reference, went up three weeks ago. And before that, the house spent 18 months on the market. Then off the market for 6 months before they just recently listed it again. So this is not a logical time for a sudden change of heart.)
It seems they can never make up their minds - though I imagine that an offer at their (outrageous*) asking price for all three parcels together, with no offer contingencies regarding the fact that a developer would need historic registry approval to knock down the existing house, would make up their minds straightaway. Frankly, I would be better off waiting for these loony (attemptedly) profiteering old people to die, and I am more than willing to do so.
In the interim, I will go through the house one more time (have been trying to schedule this for a week, but apparently they won't answer their realtor's calls, so no luck so far), photograph everything that's worth asking our friends questions about, and then make one offer: the exact number I think the house is worth. (I would have started with a lower offer, but they allegedly have several competing ones, so no back-and-forth bargaining opportunities will exist.) The listing broker has told me that it has to be a "good" offer - i.e., at least the asking price - but the same-age, also falling-down house across the street was sold with 35% more land last December, for $50k less than this house's list price. So he is LYING (or some sugar-coated version thereof), and he can take his fictional offer requirements and stuff them.
My opinion of the real estate profession is about the same as my opinion of the fertility medicine profession right now: i.e., even the good ones can't be trusted an inch farther than you can throw them.
In other news...my DH and I have had a delightful cycle of screaming at each other just recently, which I always enjoy. I don't suppose that two days of pre-cycle spotting and wild hormones and tormenting myself with the possibility that no normal cycle means I could be pregnant have anything to do with my contributions to that. I am so exhausted and even though I know his impending departure is making me more upset, and even though we have now made peace and stopped yelling, I will be so relieved when he's gone. I want my house to myself.
Of course, in addition, I can't wait for his travel schedule to be over in a few months. I know that I'm blessed to have a husband who loves me (difficulties we may have, but we know we have a good marriage), but this past year has been nothing but bad for our marriage. This is no way for people to live.
And in other news (actually sort of related)...a coworker told me that a local law school hires working attorneys to teach legal writing courses. This is an amazing opportunity in that I am, superficially at least, perfectly qualified to do it. My attitude toward applying for something super-competitive that I'm technically underqualified for, like a full-time position teaching law, is the same as my attitude toward planning for a pregnancy: it's not worth wasting five minutes or a single sheet of paper, because long shots pan out all the time - but not for me. IF has taught me to give up hoping not just for a family, but for finding a happy life at all.
So, anyway, it's a blessing to have something to think about that doesn't require hope for an unlikely outcome. Based on what little I know so far, I'd be a natural choice for this program - if not this year, then in a few years. And that would be a baby step toward making something I'd really love (teaching) eventually, through many more baby steps, become a likely outcome - something for which I don't have to raise my hopes at all.
Thus, my broader goals: figure out what in my life would really make me happy. (I have been pondering on this for months, with no real clarity. Father's suggestions - I'm seeing him again this coming Friday - of adopting or working with the poor** are duds. Both of those sound like things that would make me UNhappy right now.) And then, maneuver myself to a place from which achieving that would be almost effortless. I guess that means my bottom line goal is - figure out how never to be seriously disappointed again. I don't feel I have the stamina for any more, for life.
*In early 2008 - pre-crash - they had advertised the total property at price X. Rapidly, also pre-crash, they dropped the price by 20% (so far, so good). Then they left it at that number for 18 months (pre- and post-crash) while it failed to sell. Then they took it off the market, and then recently returned it to the market, post-crash, at... .33% less than the prior price. No, I don't mean 33% or 3.3%; I mean .33%. As in, a third of 1%.
**Teens and kids excepted. That might be good, actually.
