My blood test results came in today, and I probably could have predicted the outcome. Scratch that. I DID predict the outcome – last week, before I even had the blood drawn.
I’m not pregnant. No sh**, Sherlock, to be pregnant, you have to have ovaries that work (generally speaking. There are exceptions).
My hormone levels, though within the normal limits, show a 5:1 LH:FSH ratio. What does that junk mean? Basically, that I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Yes, we know – I was diagnosed with that LAST week. My estrogen’s a little high, but nothing to shake a stick at. The positive thing about these results was that they showed that I have, in fact, ovulated. Actually, if we go with the dotted-sketchy-cross hairs that Fertility Friend gave me, I had my hormones checked on 7DPO…which we couldn’t have planned better if we tried.
So now its just a waiting game. If my wonky thermometer gave me ANY accurate temperatures at all, I am 13DPO with no sign of my period (or, as my dear WB friends call it, El Diablo). My luteal phase is, for the most part, 12 days, so if El Diablo doesn’t show up by Monday or Tuesday, I’m testing again. Glutton for punishment? You betcha.