I dreamed that Nurse Nina was standing at my desk as I admitted to her that Heather was on day 15 of her cycle and still hadn't ovulated.
After all my jubilation at our decision to tramp our own path, I can't help feeling a bit embarrassed when I think of telling Nina that we're going to keep working on getting pregnant at home, despite her misgivings. Last night, Heather and I discussed whether we should skip a concert because a friend was in town: it would be a waste of $50 tickets, but we didn't want to blow off our friend. Buying sperm is a waste if Nina discovers hormone issues in Heather's blood tests, but we want a baby so badly, we'll blow off Nina and the money on the chance we could get pregnant sooner.
Where are the easy choices? When do we get to argue about giraffe-versus-turtle nursery themes instead of whether we should gamble $1,000 next month if we don't know if Heather's hormones are right? And what if we find out that they aren't? How much more money and hope is the process going to drain from us?
It's 3:00A.M. and I'm being awfully melodramatic. I can't wait till all our family's melodrama is coming from an angry pregnant woman. She's going to be gorgeous.
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