So, I know that I should be working on step #4 - stop watching all things baby. But I am just NOT in the mood today. I am tired, I am cranky, and I am STRESSED. Ahhh, the life of an overconceiver. I spent the day dealing with pregnant women being EVERYWHERE! I swear, they are crawling out of the woodwork. And I don't hold it against them. Everyone has the right to procreate (unfortunately). But do they have to be around me??? God love 'em. It's not their fault that I become a tri-horned green-eyed monster around them. Notice the bit of bipolar thought in there...
I am heading into the Fertile Zone....aka the four days prior to and including the Big O. At least, I am pretty sure I am, since I have banned pee sticks. Anyway, let me explain to you how life in the Fertile Zone usually works.
Scenario #1: Wake up at 5am, dead exhausted, beg husband for nookie. Denied. Stomp into shower, then pout. Work. Come home. Attempt to put on something halfway sexy. Ask husband again for nookie. Usually denied. Then loving husband comes back to bed at 10pm when I am ASLEEP mind you, and attempts nookie. Denied. Cut my losses for the day.
Scenario #2: Wake up at 5am, dead exhausted, beg husband for nookie. Score! Late to work. Spend day unable to determine cervical mucus because of blob of semen that refuses to come out with kegals (yet another DAMN LIE in the TTC literary world...kegals do NOT expel your husband's load). Stress because unsure if fertile.
Scenario #3: Morning rendevous denied. Lacy bra and ruffly panties work. Evening babymaking is a GO. Spend 30 minutes watching "Family Guy" with legs in the air and pillow under butt. Wake up in the morning to begin the cycle all over again.
DOES ANY OF THIS SOUND REMOTELY SEXY???? I don't think so. Some days I wish that a dirty movie and a turkey baster was socially acceptable (or hygenically safe for that matter). Somehow I think that last year's turkey broth might cause some sort of raging vaginitis. Come on girls, don't try to deny you don't think the same things.
So, I will spend my evening conjuring up ways to get a "deposit". And this is how the next five days will be spent. And, don't believe the hype. Men are not ALWAYS ready to go at the drop of a hat.
I am heading into the Fertile Zone....aka the four days prior to and including the Big O. At least, I am pretty sure I am, since I have banned pee sticks. Anyway, let me explain to you how life in the Fertile Zone usually works.
Scenario #1: Wake up at 5am, dead exhausted, beg husband for nookie. Denied. Stomp into shower, then pout. Work. Come home. Attempt to put on something halfway sexy. Ask husband again for nookie. Usually denied. Then loving husband comes back to bed at 10pm when I am ASLEEP mind you, and attempts nookie. Denied. Cut my losses for the day.
Scenario #2: Wake up at 5am, dead exhausted, beg husband for nookie. Score! Late to work. Spend day unable to determine cervical mucus because of blob of semen that refuses to come out with kegals (yet another DAMN LIE in the TTC literary world...kegals do NOT expel your husband's load). Stress because unsure if fertile.
Scenario #3: Morning rendevous denied. Lacy bra and ruffly panties work. Evening babymaking is a GO. Spend 30 minutes watching "Family Guy" with legs in the air and pillow under butt. Wake up in the morning to begin the cycle all over again.
DOES ANY OF THIS SOUND REMOTELY SEXY???? I don't think so. Some days I wish that a dirty movie and a turkey baster was socially acceptable (or hygenically safe for that matter). Somehow I think that last year's turkey broth might cause some sort of raging vaginitis. Come on girls, don't try to deny you don't think the same things.
So, I will spend my evening conjuring up ways to get a "deposit". And this is how the next five days will be spent. And, don't believe the hype. Men are not ALWAYS ready to go at the drop of a hat.
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