Hurry Up and Wait

I'm almost positive I ovulated yesterday. This morning, my BBT was a huge jump higher from earlier this week, and I had so much cervical mucous last night I could have... I'm not going to finish that metaphor. It was going nowhere good.

Of course it's good news to know that I CAN ovulate, though I'm kind of feeling like this cycle was a bust--despite how perfect my ovulation symptoms seemed. We didn't have sex yesterday. We both worked late and then had to quick shovel the driveway. Then Bobby had a game. When we got home, it was close to 9:30. I figured out I was probably ovulating (crazy amount of cervical mucous), but Bobby wasn't in the mood.

I think his words were: "I guess we could, if we really have to."

Swoon. The man's a poet, I tell ya.

 I don't blame him though (okay, I do a little. I asked him if he thought he could at least wank it into a turkey baster. He did not.). We're both still exhausted and recovering from the tournament over the weekend, plus working on our kitchen yesterday (remodel is ALMOST done!).

I wasn't exactly in the mood to seduce him either. I really just wanted to go to sleep, but I thought we could have powered through because I was so sure of the timing.

We did have sex on Sunday, two days ago. Hopefully there were still some suave sperm just chilling at the bar, waiting for the egg to saunter in with her stilettos, pearls, and red lipstick. I know that sperm can live up in there for up to 72 hours...though I seriously doubt that's my case. I mean, what part of this has been easy? There's no way my body is going to be the kind, compassionate environment that provides a comfy stool to host some sperm while they sip martinis and wait for the egg (not actually sure why I keep imagining this scenario as a bar. That's weird. I'll stop now.).

I should be more excited about the fact that I ovulated. This is the most confident I've been in two years. But it's hard to get excited about my body doing something it should be doing all on its own. If Patty and Selma would put down their cigarettes for a moment and realize what time of the month it is, they could get their act together and send an egg on down. But I definitely don't trust them with that kind of responsibility.

Maybe I'm way off. Maybe I still suck at charting my temperature and I actually ovulated several days ago. Maybe the cervical mucous was...something else. Maybe I'm, once again, setting myself up to be disappointed.

Either way, this is going to be a freaking long two week wait.