Our trying to conceive efforts have come of age.
It's with great pride that I announce the systematic ravaging of our wobbly bits is all grown up.
Twenty one cycles old.
ET's battered love cavern can buy beer in New York.
Spencer can legally engage in homosexual activity in Poland.
Ellie can drive a bike over 25kw in Estonia.
Today, Monday, is CD14.
Yesterday we had a positive OPK, so we celebrated in appropriate fashion with a performance of the grunting boogie.
If things are normal(yeah, go on, laugh), we should get the trail off of the positive OPK today, with ovulation then tomorrow, and the temperature spike the day after.
We are then back in the two week wait, which will be an anxious one. That's really saying something considering the last two week wait seems to have lasted about 8 weeks.
The operation ET had is known to increase pregnancy rates in the following months, so this cycle is the most optimistic one we'll have had since the very early days.
Shiny tubes, polished and primed, ready for gallons of man milk to ride the go-goo surf and hook up with some chicks in record time.
Stale sheets, fresh start.
While I dry off my grapes of wrath which have been resting in an ice bucket, I won't even dare tempt fate with mentioning that this is the last chance we have to be pregnant by Christmas.
"Santa, baby" indeed.