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!"