Month two ended with nothing. No period, no positive. I shrugged it off; hormones, stress, possible cyst, everything collating into a storm of body hatred - and the feeling was mutual both from me to my body and from my body to me.
We planned to go on vacation starting this weekend. It was timed perfectly: between semesters at the university, coinciding with a big pay day, and smack dab in the middle of my theorized fertile time frame (or, the average "two weeks after the period began"). It turns out, Mother Nature is a complete bitch. After a no-show period, which came with plenty of bloating, exhaustion, headaches, back aches, and random twinges elsewhere, I began to get slightly worried; best case scenario: it's a cyst that bugs me after the vacation with a heavy flow; worst case: I start said heavy flow the moment I step foot on the cruise ship. We leave Saturday. As of today, Thursday, the missing period is here, late. I get to spend the first half of my trip feeling super self conscious of a damn tampon string as I lounge by the pool and dive into the ocean, and also worry about bathroom locations as we hike around some historical places. Not to mention the body paranoia of being so bloated my 'fat' pants are snug...and I am going out in public in a swim suit?!
A quick aside:
You would think that I would be used to the mood swings by now. The emotional arsenal array inside my head seems to be infinite -- and I can see, now, why some women are absolutely bonkers. The only thing I have determined is that telling Mr. M. what mood I'm in is the best way to preemptively kill any triggers that could set off a chain of events resulting in an even lower emotional pit of despair. There it is, again, folks: the key to a good, healthy relationship: communication.
I had originally planned to ditch my Metformin for the trip: Why worry about the side effects when I need to relax? Why worry over what I'm eating while I'm on vacation? The thought had crossed my mind that it would be wonderful to relax and have fun and not worry about anything, even have a cocktail or two, and maybe come home with a special souvenir. Now? I'm thinking 'to Hell with it', just so I can knock back a few shots. Not the best reasoning in the world, but certainly not the worst. Come to think of it, it would be one less thing to shove in my carry-on....
What's the famous war theory quote? No plan survives first contact with the enemy. Yea, the same can be said when dealing with hormones, planning for pregnancy, and facing off with Mother Nature.