Monday, March 24, 2014

The First Postpartum Peak

I've been using the Marquette method to track my fertility or lack thereof since relations (insert eyebrow wiggle here) resumed postpartum. It's obscenely expensive to buy those little sticks, but I have no confidence in my ability to use any other NFP method. I cannot interpret mucus to save my life.

When you are breastfeeding there's a different protocol than when you're cycling normally, because of how nursing can suppress your fertility. You create an artificial 20 day cycle, for reasons that I only sort of understand but I don't feel confident telling anyone over the internet. For my first couple of "cycles," everything just stayed low. Then they'd start out low, but begin reading high sometime during the cycle, but when I'd trigger a new cycle, they'd go back to low. However, this last time, when I triggered and then tested for a new cycle, they stayed high! This meant we were either in for a long period of abstaining (insert disappointed Husband and January faces here) or I was about to ovulate for real. Just a few days into the "cycle," the monitor indicates that I've peaked! (Insert shocked January face here).

A bunch of questions and feelings that were conveniently tucked away in my postpartum, non-cycling mind are starting to creep out.

I talked to Husband about some of the overarching issues yesterday without getting emotional. And while he specifically said that we didn't need to hash out the whole thing immediately, he was also more receptive of the conversation than I expected him to be. We laid out the scenarios of what could happen if IF happens again, even though it's not like we arrived at any sort of answers. I am quite positive that it's because I was sitting on the floor with G, holding her as she gnawed on my knee and played with some toys, but I was able to be rather dispassionate on the subject of IF.

Knowing myself, that won't last for long, but I am hoping to use this space to sort out my thoughts and any emotions that come along with them.

Love,
January

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