The Waiting is the Hard Part

I’m getting used to doing the pee dance. That’s because I’m trying really hard to hold it in long enough to take the Digital Ovulation Test every day. At this point, I’m questioning if I really do ovulate at all. Maybe I really don’t know how menstruation works because every day I get the empty circle. I pee and pray for that smiley face that says, “Get it on!” But alas, nothing yet. Nada. Zip. Zilch. The empty circle is pretty much mocking me at this point. I told B my million dollar idea for the day is to make an ovulation test with a sound chip in it that goes, “Bon Chica Bow Wow” when it’s time for chuggi-chuggi. (This term for sex stems from B’s days working in a wharehouse at night with a bunch of Hispanic jokesters who used to teach him charming phrases like this).
If I don’t get a Smiley soon I’m going to run out of pee sticks and I really don’t want to buy another box. This stuff isn’t cheap! And on top of everything, I feel like I’m failing Ovulation 101. I know there are a lot of medical reasons why some women can’t ovulate, but none of those reasons have an easy solution. They’re all indicators of serious problems and my passionate (even though some might call it “high strung” or “crazy”) responses to less than ideal situations can’t handle a serious problem down there.
B has this bizarre optimistic attitude all the time and while I usually appreciate it as the Ying to my Yang, right now I just want to deck him. Yesterday he told me it was a GOOD thing it wasn’t a Happy Face Day because he had a lot of work to do and had to be up early tomorrow morning. Of course, I took this to mean that he didn’t love me or actually want to have kids. God forbid he be a little tired, right? Clearly, my hormones are ready for me to be knocked up, it’s just my uterus that needs to catch up.