Ovulation has left the building.
"OvFest 21" was a roaring (well, grunting, at least) success, earned much critical acclaim, but we have to wait a couple of weeks to see if it will gain nomination for any major awards.
What I'm noticing more and more is a tendency to give it 'one for the road'.
This is a 'just in case' coming together of weary reproductive organs, long after the realms of possibility and fantasy have been left far behind.
"We have a .0001% chance of it working"
"ah, try it anyway."
"Ovulation was a week ago you fool"
"ah, you never know, try it anyway."
It's come to the stage that the physical act of attempting impregnation is becoming so addictive, and therefore so drawn out past any point of possible success, that my wee baby bullets would have to actually swim backwards in time to hit their target.
Marty McFly meets Spencer, if you like.
Nevertheless, even as I write this and put it out in plain black and white, knowing that ovulation has come and come and come and gone, we'll still end up giving an encore performance of the pubic polka even though the audience have all left and gone home.
We'll take that penile cloth, and wring it out one last time, in an attempt to get one more drop of jolly juice into ET's baby bucket.
All in all, after all the ups and downs of the last year or two, hopeful and randy isn't a bad place to be at all.