So, here’s the thing.  I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I’m feeling really hopeful this month.

I don’t know, and I feel foolish thinking it, much less speaking it aloud, but I do. A positive OPK is not a positve HPT, and yet, I’m strangely excited. More so than ever, I think, because while I love to gaze at the pregnancy calendar (see babyopedia) each month, this time I went a step further and looked at a fucking Chinese Gender Prediction chart, which says the hypothetical baby is a boy. I know. Pathetic.

I feel like we really nailed it this month, though, no pun intended.  This morning, waiting for the snowday phone call, I was laying in bed and I felt twinges in my lower abdomen, on the right, in the area they say you might feel them.  I was sleepy though, waiting for the phone to ring, but what if that’s when I ovulate? Maybe it happens when I’m sleeping.  And I know that I don’t need to be awake when I ovulate to get pregnant, but it was just a thought of "huh… was that it?"  We got our GOF on an hour later, 36 hours after the last GOF, and I was able to lay in bed after and let everything settle, and I was able to take the time to enjoy it, and I just felt GOOD about it.  We timed it really well, I think, and we used the expensive sperm-friendly lube, and the missionary position, and we said "I love you" and all that, and well, I’m hopeful.

Then I watch the NOVA video that I added to the Babyopedia (at right) and think "how the fuck does ANYONE get pregnant? EVER?"  There’s so much working against conception at all times, it seems.  But then, at the end of the video there’s a segment of a baby being born, and it’s not all Baby-Story-Blurred-Out, it’s RIGHT THERE, and vivid, and real and it made me cry.  I want that, you know? I want it.

I have a week, I figure, before I can really start overreacting to anything weird going on.  In two weeks, I figure I can test.  I’m glad that the 2WW will end during my vacation, so that I can deal with whichever result that happens.  I look out at the snow, though, and think "this is a perfect snowfort day. Kids will love this yard on snow days," and I want it. Soon. To at least know it’s coming, sometime.

I’m sure I’ll careen wildly between raging optmism and defeatist pessimism, so I thank you in advance for reading along and being nice to me, yet again.  This could be it, though. It could be.