Yeah yeah. As the song goes - whilst you are busy making other plans, grieving, hoopla-ing about night sweats and hot flashes, being thumped in the head at regular fifteen minute intervals by non-human-male boss who is more worried about gas dispersion problems in a remote mine-site in the middle of whoop whoop than your life-long fertility quest.
I just realise I haven't been doing my temperatures for the last three weeks.
It was almost a three year non-breakable habit. First thing first, if Apeman wants a hug/sex in the the morning, it's a definite NO until I take my body temperature. I don't want his body heat (or body on heat) to contaminate my basal body temperature. Nooo siree. Temperature first.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.
Ooh. 36.9°C. What does that mean? Hormonal fluctuation? Egg release? Possible cystation occuring in the bottom half of right ovary?
And then I will obsess about this stupid little number for the duration of my car ride to work.
Well thank fucking goodness that I have temporarily abandoned this habit of mine. Because it really is making me insane.
Since grandpa's sickness and untimely death, (sigh...he was meant to be around when I present him with his great-grandchild), I have gone easy on my fertility quest. It's like I am not thinking about getting pregnant ALL THE TIME. I actually focused momentarily on other things in life, such as grandmama's happiness, Apeman's eating habits, my dog's skin problem, and to plan a nice holiday during christmas so me and Apeman can run free and relax - enjoy life like normal people.
Not sure if this is a good thing. Maybe it's a sign from Grandpa, maybe this is his way of telling me there are other things in life to worry about apart from having a baby. I just wish the rest of the world (ie. Apeman's relatives) understands that too.
And on that note. This week's New Idea once again glorifies my favourite tennis couple - please throw in your four bucks and look inside for this week's exclusive story on Bec and Lleyton's secret baby heartache! I didn't even border to stop and check out the magazine. It is likely to be something daft like - oh my god they are not getting the baby girl they have always (the 8 months they have known each other?) dreamed of - they are, and we know that for a fact because it is an exlcusive, getting a boy who is going to grow up to look and play tennis just like daddy! Hurray!
Oh my god Bec gained a humanly possible 4 pounds as a result of the pregnancy and is going to be named Australia's fattest ex-soap-actress! Tragedy!!!!
Am sure nothing is tragically wrong with her pregnancy and baby. And even if so, I don't want to read about it either.