Tuesday, July 10, 2012

These Three Things...

Not a lot is happening in my life (and definitely not enough to warrant a whole blog post), so I can pretty much surmise what is going on in three small bullets.

1. Dr. O's nurse (Grace) called me yesterday. She just wanted to see if I had any questions. If I wasn't already swooning, I am now. Of course, seeing how she woke me up (hey - I'm a teacher on summer break), my foggy mind barely got her name. However, she reassured me if I thought of anything later, I should be sure to call. In the polar opposite front, Dr. D still has not called despite me cancelling our follow up appointment. Decision Reaffirmed.

2.  I dreamed last night that I was eight weeks pregnant.  Because I am a very vivid dreamer (or maybe everyone is this way), when I first woke up, I could not remember if I actually was pregnant or not. I even felt swollen and heavy in my abdomen where the baby had been (although, in truth, it was just a risotto baby left over from dinner last night). It's not the first time I've had a pregnancy dream, but they are always bitter sweet.  I love the contentedness and joy I feel the in dreams, and how real it feels at the time, but the next day I am always sullen and more sad than before because instead of just not being pregnant, I feel robbed.

3. I got a positive OPK today on CD19.  Is it just me, or does anyone else feel extraordinarily proud when you see that darkened second line?  I felt like patting myself on my back all day, just because my body did something it was meant to do. I think it is because my body so rarely does get its act together. So, like the coach of a Bad News Bears kind of team, I just want to high five my ovaries, slap the follies on their bottoms, and say "Go get 'em girls!"


  1. Im sitting here swooning over your new RE's office. They certainly know how to woo a gal, eh? Watch out, before you know it, they'll have you at 3rd base. Although... I guess that is kinda the point.

    As a total aside, I really wish we lived closer. I get such a kick out of your sense of humor. You, me, 2 tall glasses of taquila, and some angry reflextions about infertilty would be my idea of a wicked fun afternoon.