More Tea, Vicar?

I’m a bit sheepish about this, as I have to explain to you that my endocrine system is sadly deluded again, because my body obviously thinks, erroneously, that ovulation has occurred. Daft cow. Optimistic, yes, but not clever.

I suppose she’s trying her best: so I had better give her credit for the small amount of EWCM produced. And on Wednesday I had palpitations so thumpy I was thankful that the Piddle were visiting, as I reasoned that if my heart decided to give up completely and I passed dramatically away, which felt likely, at least Harry wouldn’t have the opportunity to gleefully maul my corpse about and gouge my eyes out. It’s his precious new trick, bless him.

Without the miracle of modern peesticks, I might perhaps have been suckered into said body’s heartfelt protestations of ovulation. However, courtesy of the cheap end of the internet, I recently purchased a job-lot of tests and have been dutifully peeing in the Bertolli Pasta Sauce mug that I have recently placed in the bathroom for this very purpose. This was a deliberate choice of urine receptacle: I dislike the mug intensely, but am too frugal to throw away a perfectly sound item. I had pushed it to the back of the cupboard, but Hubby, knowing my feelings concerning it, would generally pick it out deliberately to annoy me and re-insert it into circulation. I suspect that its tea-containing days are now officially over. Anyhoo, I have been peeing in my tea cup and dipping the infertile’s biscotti: ovulation sticks.

We have a whole bag of nice camera lenses, but not one that will focus down close enough to show you just how laughably faint the LH lines have been all this week. They were discernable to the naked eye – just – up until Thursday night, when the stick turned lily-white. The mucus has stopped. The palpitations – always my favourite symptom -have stopped. My body, in fact, is patently relaxing in the warm glow of a job well done. Sigh.

I had best go and be productive: John is about to disappear (as he does every Saturday) for several hours to play hockey; we have four friends coming to dinner, and Harry is a fretful tired little man, who has been subdued by his MMR jab all week. We have an expanding measles outbreak here in Warwickshire, a fact which I took care to relay to the two mothers I know who have refused to get their 3 year olds MMRd because of, you know, the risk. 

Ahh, yes! That’d be the risk that never was, then, ladies. If Harry catches even the mildest possible dose of measles – and I was seriously ill with it as a child – before his immunity kicks in from one of these unvaccinated toddler children of irresponsible mothers, I shall be applying cow shit to doorsteps in liberal quantities.

My laptop is under attack from questing little fingers that want to help Mummy type.


Good bye!

8 Responses

  1. I can go one further- ewcm for weeks when I’m not actually bleeding and sometimes while I AM. Oh, and constant blazing positive OPK’s. On the other hand, in my last IVF transfer my LH was an impressive 25 all the bloody time.



  2. I don’t trust OPKs. But then I have PCOS and OPKs give a lot of false positives to PCOS ladies because they like screwing with our minds.

    It is entirely possible that you DID ovulate and that the OPK did not pick it up because a) the surge happened in the hours between one test and another, b) you drank too much water or c) Sniggering Pee-Sticks of Doom.

    Or, possibly, your body just spun its wheels for fun and torment. Mine does that all the freaking time. So annoying. And now we shall all have to wait for two weeks to find out which it is. Ah ha ha ha. The fun. The joy.

    ‘Infertile’s biscotti’ – heh heh heh.

    Measles nearly blinded me when I was six. My mother deliberately took me to play with a measled child to infect me and get it over and done with – received wisdom then being it’s an easier disease to deal with when your immune system is still fresh and uncrumpled. I was in bed in a darkened room for TWO WEEKS, and then it morphed straight into dire bronchitis and I spent another two weeks in bed. Four weeks with a really ill child who was going batshit with boredom in the dark and who couldn’t read or watch telly or play or do anything except lie there and whine. Yeah, Mum, easier to deal with. So. I am fairly pro innoculations.

    Hoping Harry perks up and is all immune and everything ASAP. Poor lamb. It’s a bummer being a toddler, isn’t it? Loved his atonal modernist poem thingy at the bottom of the post.

  3. My mother, the crunchy-granola misplaced hippy, would not allow any of her five children have vaccinations of any kind. I suspect she and May’s mother would have been firm friends. And she was as disapproving as all hell when I decided I would vaccinate mine. My second child missed her MMR when she was suffering from excema and then contracted measles before I could get her back for the jab. Like poor May, I have terrible memories of the boredom, pain and darkened rooms when I contracted measles as a child and it is ten times worse watching your own child go through it. And even more scary is the possibility that the virus can lie dormant and return in adulthood in a far more serious form. So a “GO FORTH AND VACCINATE” poster being waved from the Antipodes.

    And clearly Harry has inherited his mum’s way with words.

  4. I had weak lines all week too – never becoming as strong as the test line and then disappearing. Bloody confusing!

    I too think that vaccinations are incredibly important but am lucky enough that we can have all 3 separately here so never have to have fight about “the risk”.

    I had mumps as a child even after the vaccination (I also had chicken pox twice!) which goes to show that there are no certainties!

    Hope Harry stays healthy!

  5. As a vaccinator, I am glad to read that you are in favour of vaccinations because the suffering from being infected is awful.
    Wish me luck trying to convince University students that they need a second dose of MMR because the 1 dose they received as children will not protect them from Mumps (apparently they are immune to measles and rubella).

  6. Oh I’m so glad you’re a vaccinator. I knew I liked you.

  7. That’ll show HH to mess with your tea mug order. HUMPH.

    “infertile biscotti” Priceless! I love it. I’m so going to use that.

  8. I’ve got no-one to vaccinate yet, but I fully intend to ostracize any parents who aren’t.

    Rita – you should be able to get the boys with the whole “mumps in your testicles” thing. And some of the girls with “mumps is deeply unattractive and you’ll look FAT”.

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