And awaaaay we go

When we started this blog, oh so many months and random rants ago, it was with the intention of chronicling our attempts to give TheBoy a sibling. In part, Judybat and I knew we wanted to record our experiences while they happened as both a personal history and so we could look back, during the more unpleasant moments to come, and remind ourselves that we really did want a second child. In part, we figured if we offered our loved ones details on-line, they wouldn't bother us in person or over the phone. (OK, so that last thought was just mine. Judybat actually likes people.)

Well, folks . . . here we go.

Last Sunday morning, just before my flight to fortune in Vegas, Judybat and I got on our bikes, took a leisurely ride to our neighborhood fertility clinic and commenced with the baby makin'.

I'll spare you the gory details like, say, discussion of catheter lengths and sperm motility. Let's just say that my uterus is a lot further up there than I'd thought. And when Judybat offered to join me on top of the table post-insemination, I wasn't exactly in the mood for some hot loving under the fluorescent lights. Imagine, ladies, a pap smear gone bad. Imagine, gents, your ladyfriend complaining about a pap smear gone bad. In other words, not painful but certainly unpleasant.

So here's the headline: I could be pregnant. Right now. Or not. The unceasing grumbling in my stomach and intermittent queasiness since earlier this week could be the result of a parasite carving out its little nest inside me. Or it could be my body reminded me that while I love steak, I'm really not built to digest it. I'm exhausted. But then again, I'm always exhausted. We won't know the answer until the end of next week.

My guess is that it will take us a few tries, but that could just be my brain trying to ensure that I'm not too disappointed if I have to go through the process again next month. It turns out that getting pregnant, at least at this age, is quite difficult, even if you time it right.

Why are Judybat and I telling you this? There is a risk. This grand reproductive effort could fail. I could get pregnant and miscarry. But the little woman and I both agree that this is an experience you should share with your friends and family, so that's what we're doing. If something goes wrong, I expect you to shower me with chocolate, coffee and good thoughts. If something goes right, stop by and we'll let you change a dirty diaper or two.

Stay tuned, and think fertile thoughts.