Oh, like any lovestruck girl, I had this silly little dream that we'd be one of those couples who get all the infertility testing done, get ready for their first big treatment and then...whammo! Get pregnant all on our own. I could tell my husband was secretly nurturing the same fantasy because on Saturday, when I completed my Day28-6am-pee-on-a-stick ritual and got the dreaded BFN, he said, "According to my research online, you really have to wait until 14 days post-ovulation for a reliable result from a home pregnancy test." His authoritative tone (and the very fact that he'd been on babyhopes.com while I was in the bathroom holding my breath) brightened my spirits. Since I didn't ovulate until Day 17, there was still a chance (I believe my words were, "Yes, dear, hell could freeze over...")
But there was more evidence for the evil stick's allegation last night: blood enough for me to risk drinking half a Valentine's cocktail called "Between the Sheets". Unfortunately, that elixir wasn't potent enough to drown my sorrows--but why do I feel hungover anyway? Seems like the intoxicating visions I had, despite my best attempts to hold off hope of any kind, stuck around despite my full-proof hangover cure: two Advil, tangerine Emergen'C, and a good night's sleep. Not fair.
So, back to the drawing board and my quest to understand what's happening "in there" (shout out to Eve Ensler!). Naturally, I go to Wikipedia to get the lay of the land. And what to my wondering eyes should appear? The very first clarification under the "Uterus" entry is this:
"Hystera" redirects here. For the state of mind, see hysteria.
Uh-oh. This IS a never-ending hangover: now all my anxieties and "unmanageable emotional excesses" (i.e. emotional drunkeness!) DO relate back to my uterus. I don't like where this is going...
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