Monday, October 13, 2008

My 100th Post!! "The One Where I Ovulate"

OK, first of all, this isn't the "post when I ovulate," like, I am not ovulating RIGHT NOW. This is the story of when I ovulated, which actually happened last week. I am about to share with you more information than I am sure you EVER wanted to know, so if you are squeamish about women's "business," such as reproduction, menstruation and fertile bodily fluids, then I suggest that you move on to your next destination, cause this post is for MY SISTAS!

Some of you may know that before I had my daughter, I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), a disorder in which you RARELY ovulate, and for most women affected by it, it is very difficult to get pregnant. Yeah, it SUCKS. Sucks eggs, actually (pun fully intended). So when I found out, I was appropriately devastated and wanted to know immediately what to do to trick my body into ovulating so my husband and I could get pregnant. Well, I went on a little miracle drug called Metformin, which helped me ovulate every month and a half instead of two-three times a year and within three months of being on it, I was preggo! DING! We have a winner! It was great and I had my daughter, ya-da-ya-da-ya-da, you know the deal. But I still had this cloud hanging over me that I wouldn't be able to conceive again, or that it would be really difficult.

Well, this was fine until The One Where I Changed My Mind (check out this post and you will now what I am talking about) because I wasn't even sure I wanted to have more kids. But lo and behold, that damn biological clock picked up where it left off and started ticking on me again. After a long, mature and heartfelt discussion with my hubby (ha, yeah right) about whether we should have another baby, we decided that yes, we would probably start trying again after we had moved into our new house and got settled. I was fine with that.

Until last week, when the unthinkable happened.

First let me explain to you that I was on birth control, simply to make sure we didn't have an "oops!" when we weren't ready, and to make my life easier by having shorter, lighter periods at the same time each month. But three weeks ago, I ditched the little jelly ring so I could "try" to get my body back on track before we started to try to conceive. I was imagining months of no period, followed by dreadfully long, heavy periods (like I always had before), followed by a trip to the OB/GYN where I would be poked and prodded and put on more medication. But, last week, while I was minding my business, sitting at my computer working (aka blogging), I got this strange sensation.

"Ouch!" I thought to myself. I had this stabbing pain on the right side of my abdomen and all of a sudden, I got a flashback of the day I conceived my daughter (yes, I do know the EXACT day; if you have ever "charted" your cycle, then you know what I mean) and that unmistakable feeling that I had all that day. There is NO other feeling like it. It is not like cramps, it is not like gas. I have had an appendicitis and it is not like that either. It is a very distinct, sharp pain like someone is poking you in the ovaries. Yes, people, you guessed it--


My heart jumped into my throat and I did the quick mental math. I had ended my period about two weeks before, which would mean that, right off of the birth control, I was ovulating ON TIME!!! In my head I am thinking "no frikkin' way!" and I blew it off as a fluke. But for the whole rest of the afternoon, I felt that pain off and on. And lo and behold, whilst going to the ladies', I found the telltale sign. The sign that ONLY means you are as fertile as a redneck--EGG WHITE CERVICAL MUCUS (OK, I told you I was going to discuss female bodily fluids, so don't go lookin' at me like that!) Again, for any of you who have charted your fertility in order to get pregnant, you know that having stretchy, egg white-like mucus means that you are extremely fertile and it is the best stuff for those little guys to swim through to get to their destination. I must have sat in the bathroom staring at it for at least ten minutes, in total disbelief that I was fertile.

So of course I am having visions of jumping on this opportunity to catch that little egg before we lost our chance. I was ready to call up my husband and tell him to get his ass home NOW to make some baby-makin' love! I mean, what if this was THE LAST time I was going to ovulate for, like, six months--or EVER? What if this was some kind of fluke, or some joke that God was playing on me and I needed to be tricky and get the last laugh? So I texted my husband, and this is the exact transcript of that conversation:

ME: I'm ovulating. Isn't that cool? (Nice, subtle hint huh?)

HUBBY: OK cool. Does that mean you need a pill or something?

ME: Haha, no, I don't need a pill. I am excited that my body is doing what it should on time now that I am off the birth control.

HUBBY: Fantastic. So you have super powers now? LOL (WTF?)

ME: No super powers. Just hopefully the ability to get pregnant again someday. (yeah, the someday I was referring to was THAT NIGHT)

HUBBY: Right on baby! (the someday he is referring to is SOMEDAY)

ME: Groovy!


(Yes, we are freaks of nature, but we make each other laugh, so it's all good).

So basicially, that conversation got me nowhere, so I decided to try my hand again later that day.

That night we had a VERY romantic dinner at an expensive restaurant and hubby was acting all lovey-dovey towards me and I thought, "This is my chance. I will get him drunk and take advantage of him so he can get me pregnant!" No, I'm just kidding (kinda). I thought, "This is my chance to broach the subject of conceiving that evening our next miracle child.

"So are you going to knock me up tonight or what?" I said oh-so-eloquently.


Yeah, that was it. He just laughed. So I let it go until later, during dinner, when I said,

"Wouldn't this be the perfect night to conceive a baby?" (I am smooth, aren't I? Yeah, you wish we were as smooth as me.")

"We're not conceiving tonight."

"We aren't?"

"No, we decided it was better to wait until we were settled in the house."

"Yes, but that was before I OVULATED!"

More laughing. Didn't this man know I was SERIOUS?

"I mean, what if it NEVER happens again? We don't know. We shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth, don't you think? That's just wrong."

"We decided. We're waiting."

And this is where I slump down in my seat, defeated, because I know he is right.

So I decided to switch to Plan B and get him really drunk. Not really, but I thought about it. Seriously thought about it. I mean, I ALMOST did it, but then realized that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had to live the rest of my life knowing that our third child was born against my husband's will during a night of drunken (most likely bad) sex.

Damn that conscience of mine!

So I will wait patiently (yeah right) and hope and pray that my body continues to do what it is supposed to do so that we can squeeze out ONE MORE baby. Do you think that is too much to ask the fertility gods? I sure hope not...cause then we might be forced to adopt a baby from China or Africa and by then, Brad and Angelina may have taken them all!

Wish me luck!