Delay or Something Else at Play?

As if we need any more uncertainty. But here it is, more uncertainty. We're still in waiting mode.

I'm now on day 33 of my cycle. So, I'm four days "late" from the average cycle length (29) which my body normally adheres to.

This could mean one of several different things:
1. I'm late because my cycle is resetting due to stress or just for the hell of it (it does this sometimes);
2. I'm late because I'm on Estrace (this can shift your cycle length to less or more than your usual);
3. I'm late because I had a sonohysterogram and this shifted my cycle length (there are many women on the internet who have reported this);
4. I'm late because of a combination of the above factors; or
5. I'm pregnant without IVF.

I know that given my history, I shouldn't hope that #5 is the case. However, with each passing day, my hope increases just a little (this has happened in the past when I've been late and the later I am, the more crushing it is when I eventually get my period).

In the mean time, I have to keep taking Estrace and enjoy the sensation of a second puberty (hyper tender breasts, difficulty getting up in the morning, acne, moody behaviour, irrational beliefs, pining to wear Doc Martens and listen to Nirvana again) mixed with a sort of pregnant but not pregnant feeling (swollen in extremities and abdomen and breasts, exhaustion, weird food aversions and things tasting abnormal, nausea, constipation, diarrhea, gas pains, an appetite that can change at the drop of a hat, anxiety, and more moodiness). And as if that weren't annoying enough, these symptoms are not consistent. I can feel well enough to walk 10 km, grocery shop, and clean the house one day and then have trouble leaving bed another day.

It makes a tenuous and tentative path for my husband to walk. Sometimes he comes home and finds me prostrate on the bed, not a hint of dinner to be found, and me not wanting to eat. Other times, he comes home and finds an emotional basket case filled with rage, ranting about how no one understands me or what I'm going through, and a craving for chips. Then other times, it's as if nothing is amiss, dinner is ready, the house looks tidy, I've had a productive day writing or editing my works, and I'm smiling, then he acts worried as if he wonders what fresh horror I'm hiding.

So I guess it's just more of the same and continuing unknowns for the next who knows how long. . . .

My general feelings right now can be expressed with a still quite full bottle of Estrace pills.