Today, it’s over a week since the day my period would have started, if I were on a normal cycle. I wouldn’t even know this, but it happened that I had two cycles recently, exactly 30 days apart. That hasn’t happened to me without the application of hormone therapy since before I had cancer.
It didn’t take much for me to begin to hope that my reproductive cycle had recovered somehow. So I waited to see if I would have period #3. And waited, and waited. If a week goes by, I told myself, I’ll take a pregnancy test.
This morning I took two. Just in case.
They both rather quickly came back with the “Not Pregnant” message.
As you might imagine, I had been hoping for more than a regular cycle. I hoped that the missed period not only meant I was normal again, but that I was fertile.
I seem unable to keep from hoping.
It is a good sign that I had two periods in a row. Maybe I will have another one at some point. Maybe if I can get back into my healthy habits and lose some more weight, I’ll be able to have them regularly again.
That won’t mean I’m fertile, though. After all, I did undergo hormone therapy. That should have helped me get pregnant, if it were possible. It didn’t happen, and that is likely my answer. Even if my ovaries do recover, it’s likely that none of my eggs are viable.
I’ve known all of this for years, though, and it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably keep on hoping until I’m 50.