We've spent the evening on home improvement: Heather has been hammering zip-its, measuring, centering, evaluating paint finish. I've handed her the hammer, the pencil, the screwdriver-- always three seconds later than she needed them and always in the wrong order.
This is a lot like trying to get her pregnant. Nina suggested we chart together so that Heather wouldn't feel all the pressure was on her, and I've bought in for sure, but there's no real pretending. I can check my temperature (which I have not) but it's just a number on the chart that we'll throw away. It doesn't have a damn thing to do with our baby.
Heather's chart is not going to get thrown away. Once we stop being jackasses and find the cervix so we can find the cervical opening (the "os," if you're playing along at home) so we can find how much and what kind of mucus is coming out, we'll shift into the stage where putting her chart down on the wrong dresser will destroy the peace of our home. I will hand her the thermometer, the pencil, the cup to pee in-- and that's as essential as I get.
I realize that she'll need a support person, and I do the reading and research and e-mail Nina about where the f-ing cervix is today, but I'm supporting the effort and she is the effort. Will her whole pregnancy feel this way for me?