Feeling... Scabby?

My superglue is peeling.

This shouldn't really be a problem, but I'm kind of a picker. I can't leave things alone, and it's worse if they're cracked or peeling or scabbed over. Yes, I'm aware of how disgusting that is. And most of the time, I ignore the urge to pick at and pull on things that just need to be left alone.

Superglue in my belly button, though? Seriously freaking me out. Plus, it itches. A lot. I'm doing my best to ignore it, but I cannot promise that by the end of the day there will still be glue left in there. The only thing that's restraining me right now is the fact that I'm terrified of my incisions popping open, thus meaning I have to drive myself to the ER with my belly button gaping open, with all my insides visible. (I have a graphic imagination.)

The other incision is worse, but only because it's down in my bikini line(ish), and my clothes rub on it all day long. It's easier to ignore, though, because you can't really pick at that without drawing some negative attention to yourself.


In other gross news... Apparently my body has decided it would like to try to be fertile now. I'm going on a full week of EWCM (egg-white cervical mucus, for those of you lucky enough to not need to know what that is), more than a week earlier than my typical, unmedicated-cycle ovulation date. I had originally deemed this another break from watching my cycle, but this new fertile weirdness has me back to OPKing. I temped this morning, too, but if my ovaries actually go ahead and produce early, I won't catch that on my chart.

I hope this means good things are on the way. I'll be honest--right up until I woke up from surgery, I was really ready to be done TTC. Almost three years of failure has brought me right up to the breaking point. It was hurting my marriage. It continues to threaten our financial stability. I was living solely in the hopes of not failing, and then being completely devastated at the end of every cycle. That shit's not healthy. And once I told BoyWonder that I thought I was ready to be done, things became so much more relaxed that I began to wonder if I'd made a huge, three-year-long mistake.

But now? Well, for one thing, the more research I do on endometriosis makes me wish I'd researched it before my diagnosis. I've had these symptoms since I was a teenager. Well, before then, actually, because I started having periods at eleven, and they were horrible. Twelve or thirteen days long, cramping so badly there were days I couldn't go to school. Cramping clear down into my legs.

And any time I brought this up to my gynecologist, it was basically brushed off as being normal. Or I'd be offered a different type of birth control pills. There was never any mention of endometriosis. Just like when I'd ask about irregular periods, there was never any mention of PCOS. WTF is wrong with doctors?

But, I digress. As usual.

Now, I'm feeling like maybe when I go in on Tuesday, the RE might tell me he can have me pregnant in a month or two. And this time, I might actually believe him. Okay, I believed him last time, but now that we've fixed things and my body is at least pretending to be fertile, I have some hope.

And you know something really ridiculous? I've already looked at ballpark EDD's for the next couple of cycles, if they were to work. Next cycle would be the end of August/beginning of September. Is it sad, that in my brain, that would be my baby coming back to me?

I hate how hopeful I get about this stuff. You'd think after all the whining and complaining and failing I'd have given up by now. But then again, there is that unending hope that at some point, things will go the way I want them to.