January never feels like the start of a "new year". I suppose my 13 years of public education followed by another 5 of post-sec (plus another semester to do my NICU training, that happened to start in September) has me pretty well trained to think that September is the start of a new year.
Because it's September, and because everything and their dog is starting up with activities, and we knew that our insemination cycle would fall DIRECTLY IN THE MIDDLE OF INSANITY, we opted to skip a month.
J is also finding it much more difficult than I am, I suppose because it's her body that isn't growing anything. There have been a lot of tears, but I expected that. I expected to find the start of each new cycle more difficult too, because it means that she's not pregnant and we're still waiting, but I find it's OK. I'm having fun guessing what our kids will look like, what sign they would be.
This month, if we conceive, will find J hugely pregnant or us with a very newborn at the same time as my childhood best friend/sister is getting married. I *almost* want to skip this month too, but I won't, and instead half-heartedly hope that it doesn't work, which sounds awful, but the wedding's in Calgary, and there's no way J is travelling that pregnant, and there's no way I'm leaving her side. So that would be really disappointing. We're still gonna try, because we're starting to get really good at it. We've enjoyed our month off, took time to re-examine why this is so stressful, and to try to reaffirm to each other why on earth we're doing this (seriously, it would be so much easier and cheaper to want to be child-free, but I just can't, the empty ache in my arms never goes away).
So here's back to the grind of cervix examining, spit ferning checking, daily 8am temperature taking (my wife is a night owl and will happily sleep until 10 if you let her!) and general obsessing over every symptom. HUZZAH!