Let's try that again, shall we?

Another month, another pregnancy attempt.

Once again, it was just a teensy bit uncomfortable. (Sort of like I remember sex with a guy, actually. Rimshot!) Or, as the doctor who performed the insemination noted, "Your cervix doesn't seem to like me today."

Well, no, not when you're jabbing at it like that. Thanks, doc.

This was, in fact, an entire day of poking poor AnnaRay. I went to the acupuncturist this morning, in the hopes of ending this unpleasant habit I've picked up of falling asleep frighteningly early, then waking up every 45 minutes or so throughout the night.

The experience was, um, fascinating. Nice Zen Acupuncturist Guy stuck tiny needles all over my ears, hands, legs and feet. And then he left the room and told me to have a good nap. Whassit?? A nap? There are needles all over my body, something that is very evident every time I move even the barest inch, and I'm supposed to nap? Crazy talk, if you ask me. He also gave me (sold is such a dirty word) some herbs for sleeping. They come in pill form -- large, stinky grey pills. I'll be sure to let you know how they work, assuming I can bring myself to actually take them.

Post-pricking, I went to the ear doctor to buy hearing aids. Those suckers are expensive. And the fitting process, which involves having cotton shoved down into your ear canal with a large, pointy stick, wasn't exactly fun. Once the cotton is wedged down deep enough, the audiologist shot a cold pink gel into my head, completely filling each side. When she was finished, I could hear nothing. She left me there for five minutes while the stuff hardened, and that was, honestly, the first time I've found myself on the verge of terror at the prospect of losing my hearing entirely. Because based on my brief experience today, that would be scary and lonely and confusing.

Judybat joined me for the last Columbus Day errand: Impregnation. The details weren't any different, except for my unhappy cervix. (Judybat says it was pouting when she took a look. How sad.)

Last month, I was surprisingly disappointed when sperm failed to hit the egg. We're a loooong way away from feeling the need to try fertility drugs or anything like that. But we did take one extra precaution this time: We actually had sex. On the examining table. Immediately after the doctor left the room.

I'll spare you more details, given that you're probably already going "eewwwwww" or some variation therein. However, could you please think send some positive thoughts radiating toward my uterus? Because I'd really, really like to have Judybat's baby.

And she has already done her part.