I got up today, went to the toilet and realised my period had started.
It's been a long time - over a year. I haven't missed it.
It seems kind of pointless, really - I'm never going to conceive without IVF, so it's just a reminder every month that I cannot, will not, get pregnant on my own. Still, I suppose the fact that it's there will help us with Number 2, if there ever is to be one.
That's another thing. In the last couple of days, I've started back at work, part time. Which I have another few months of, before I'm back. We've moved from the pram attachment to the pushchair attachment. The Boy has a bigger seat. I have chucked a lot of my pregnancy clothes, but couldn't quite bear to let some of the maternity clothes I liked go.
It's all focusing my mind on whether I should quit the IVF game when we're ahead, or stagger back into the casino for more thrills, spills and heartache. I do find myself mentally totting up how we'd get the money together for a fresh cycle.
But right now, I know I shouldn't worry about it. I have lots on my mind. Like where I put my tampons...