So much for all that time not making a baby

Imagine you are me.  A short, generally happy girl from the midwest.  You went to Catholic school and in Catholic school you get "Family Life" in the 5th grade.  That's your sex ed.  "Family Life."  You watch a movie about making pancakes that somehow teaches you about your period and mimes on a filmstrip tell you about puberty.  You and your friends giggle your way through the textbook and at the end, you are as educated as you're gunna get... until you get to high school.  You ended up in public high school.  The putting condoms on bananas with the pregnant girl sitting next to you kind of public high school.  In high school, you're told that it only takes one time and it only takes one sperm.  By the end of high school, you're pretty sure that looking at a boy might get you pregnant. 

You go to college and dutifully take your pills.  You go to graduate school, not worried about your fertility.  After all, according to US Weekly, women get pregnant in their 30s and 40s all the time.  You've got a career to build.  Might as well get your doctorate and keep popping those pills.  You get your career on track and keep trying to find Mr. Right in your spare time.  Your friends are popping out babies like it's going out of style so when you do find Mr. Oh So Right, you assume it will be just as easy for you.  But for some reason, it's not.  After a lot more than one try and plenty more than one sperm, you still don't have a baby.

You start trying to time things.  Then you buy the basal thermometer and miscellaneous things to pee on.  Your uber-fertile friends are handing out advice like "just relax" and telling you that you're over reacting, but you know something is wrong.  So you call that Reproductive Endocrinologist Dr. Google told you to go see.  That guy takes one look at your meticulously kept temperature charts and says that you probably suck at ovulating.  Well, not in so many words, but that's what you hear.  Next thing you know, you're asking your boss if you can sneak out of the office for blood draws on very specific days of the month and trying to support your husband in his own humiliation.  All because you have a primal, indescribable urge to make a baby with that man you love so much and hate to see in pain.  It all makes you examine life in a way you never really thought about.  So what do you do between humiliating tests and more waiting?  You write a blog.  You know - become one of those weird blog writing people.

Welcome to our life.