“She wanted something to happen – something, anything; she did not know what.”
– Kate Chopin, The Awakening
It’s not that little things haven’t been happening. I’ve had two blood tests checking the FSH and estradiol levels. Results from the first one show I’m on the better end of the good range. After the first few ovulation test sticks showed just one line, the past two have shown a faint second line, so I know there’s an egg in there getting ready to drop.
But when the big wait-for-it is not “am I pregnant” but a two-weeks-from-it “am I about to ovulate,” it’s hard to maintain the sense of anticipation and whoo-hoo that I felt the first month we decided to try. In fact, after several nights in a row of trying this week, M and I are just looking at each other like “Really? We have to do that again?”
Okay, we get over it. And the faint second line does provide motivation. So does thinking about Caitlin, and Pablo, and Eli and Max. So does every little-girl laugh we overhear at the grocery. The other day, one of those delightful laughs bubbled through the produce section at Central Market, and while M and I couldn’t see the source, we both looked at each other and just grinned.
But I’m ready to find out I’m pregnant, darn it! I want the sticks I pee on every morning to be the five-days-before-your-scheduled-period sticks, not these mid-cycle ones! I have days and days and days to wait. I try not to think that I could have months and months and months to wait. I’m ready now.