Swim babies, swim!!!

I was so keyed up over my IUI appointment yesterday that I couldn't sleep the night before.

Most of my anxiety was around "collecting the specimen" because we live 40 minutes from the lab and had to get it in right when the lab opened and within one hour of collection. And there was a lot of verbiage on the information sheet about how they wouldn't accept late specimens, blah blah blah, so I worked myself into near hysteria at the thought of having to get DH to produce within a specific timeframe and then having to drive like the dickens in morning traffic as thousands of sperm die off every minute it takes to get it to the lab.

Of course, I freaked out over nothing, and we got it all in on time. (And then learned that the tech usually will open the lab up a little early for people who want to collect onsite. Thanks for telling me that after the fact!) We went for breakfast while they "processed," and the combination of food + falling adrenaline levels + lack of sleep turned me into a near zombie when they actually finally got around to doing the procedure.

Dr. G. was pleased with the sample - there was a 65% survival rate (the IUI processing is so strangely Darwinian, not to mention the number that probably died on the way to the lab) and an end count of 42 million per ml.

What I like about Dr. G. is that he is really good about explaining everything that he is doing as he is doing it, so I always feel like I know exactly what is going on.

What I didn't like about Dr. G. is that he invited DH to come over on his side and watch while he did the procedure, and then I had to listen to strange banter between my husband and my RE about the positioning of my cervix. I know I'm lucky that DH is so involved and so interested in this whole fertility treatment thing, but I'm massively grateful I was so out of it while all this was happening.

And at the end of it all, Dr. G. looked me straight in the eye and said, "Okay, we're going to make this happen." I love that. I really do.

And that was it. Went home, took a long nap, and then piddled the rest of the day with some work and playing with the dog before vegging out to watch "Lost" and "V."

It's not just the LH that is surging...

Sorry if this post is TMI. You have been warned.

Okay, someone needs to hold me down right now before I dash in and throw myself at Mr. Stick.

There is something about seeing that little egg image in my ClearBlue monitor that turns me into raging horny woman. Just knowing that the fertile window that is oh-so-rarely is unlatched is WIDE open with the wind blowing in...I want sperm in there, damn it!

I am under strict orders not to BD for 48 hours before my IUI, which is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Logically, I know this makes sense. My surge just appeared, eggs will not be dropping for another 24-48 hours, and the IUI gives those sperm an extra few hours so they don't get all tired out swimming into my uterus (okay, I'm kind of making that last part up).

But someone tell that to the crazy, OCD, hormonal control freak in my head! And don't get me started on the fertile CM that I can feel building up in my lady-parts.

Okay Stickles, need to breathe in...breathe out...that IUI is arriving sooner than you think. Do not, I repeat, do not touch your husband until then. And put away that cute lacy underwear...I know what you're thinking...

Edited to add...

See, I'm so wrapped up in my crazed state that I forgot to blog last night's dream!

I clearly have IUI on my mind because I dreamt that I was going over the sperm analysis results with a technician. A technician who was...Sarah Silverman.

WTF? Sarah Silverman? Is this strangely connected to my Jason Bourne dream (you know, that whole "Matt Damon/Jimmy Kimmel" thing...)?

CD 12 Update

Had my CD 12 ultrasound, and I guess it could've been worse. I got to be a human guinea pig for a 2nd-year resident who seriously needs to work on her wanding skills (hello retroflexed uterus!), but Dr. G. kept it from getting too out of hand. (What a weird little pun I just made there...)

So, I have a 17mm follie on my right ovary (which surprised me, because I've been feeling all the action on my left side), and my lining is at 6.8mm. It's an improvement from last cycle when it was 6.4mm, but not that much. You'd think it'd be better considering all the red raspberry leaf tea and pomegranate juice I've been consuming. Sigh.

Dr. G. made a comment about my body producing less estrogen for my uterine lining because I'm thin, but jeepers I'm not that thin! Maybe I'll take this as permission to go to a couple more chocolate parties and add real bacon to my diet. :) And he's reluctant to switch me to Femara because of a study in Canada showing potential cardiac/respiratory issues in babies conceived with it.

On the plus side, he's willing to give me another chance or two on Clomid before "graduating" on to injectibles. He seemed pretty sure that the Clomid would work.

I have to take a moment here and talk about how much I adore Dr. G. I find it really strange because the man is so confident he's practically cocky, and his bedside manner isn't at all warm and fuzzy. But I think that's just what I need - his confidences manages to steamroller a lot of my insecurities and "what-ifs," I like that there's no wishy-washy at all with him, and he's really direct and good about answering questions.  I get the impression that he finds a lot of my IF-angst to be a little humorous, which makes me feel like it might not be as serious as I dread it to be. Here's hoping!

Anyway, now comes the wait as I pull out the OPK's and watch for the surge...

Demystifying Acupuncture - Electrostimulation edition

Sorry for posting this a day later than planned - yesterday got crazy-busy.

So I got hooked up to an electrostimulation machine for the first time on Tuesday at the Poke Clinic. I'm pretty terrified of getting electrocuted (which is rather funny because I actually have never been electrocuted), so I broke into a cold sweat when my acupuncturist explained what they were going to do.

The purpose of it is to make the acupuncture "work better" by running a microcurrent between two needles. It seems a little pseudosciency, but they say it makes for a stronger "energetic connection" between the two points.

They did the procedure with me face-down on the table (probably a good idea so I wouldn't get freaked out by all the wires). My acupuncturist inserted a couple of needles into my back and calves. Then her assistant clipped these wires to the needles. I had a region on my left back, one on my right back, one on my left leg, and one on my right leg.

The assistant then turned the machine on and started turning a dial very slowly. She told me to let her know when I felt a tingling sensation. It took about a minute or two of her upping the dial to feel it, which is a little mentally taxing when you're waiting for a sensation you've never felt before.

But once I felt it, it was really weird. The first feeling was of my muscles tightening up, but I think that was due to nerves. And then I did feel a slight tingle in the area she was stimulating. Once I felt that, she moved on to another region and started fiddling with the dials to stimulate the next area. Again, it took another minute or two, which was also stressful since one part of me was tingling, and I was trying to focus on feeling another part of myself tingle.

Anyway, eventually she got all four areas of me buzzing. She left a bell for me to ring her if I needed anything, and then I was left to "cook" or maybe "microwave" (haha) for about 20 minutes. It was harder to zone out or fall asleep with estimming because I was so aware of the sensations, but after a while, my body adjusted to it, and I actually couldn't feel it anymore.

And then at the end, they came in, turned the machine off and removed the needles. I didn't realize how nervous I was until I got up and noticed how much I was sweating. It really wasn't bad at all, even enjoyable in a certain light, and I'm glad I got to try something new - especially something that scared me.

I have this fantasy of one day telling my future child(ren) about the lengths I went through to have them. Not to make them feel guilty or anything, but to demonstrate how wanted they were. Getting poked with needles on a regular basis, being wanded by doctors...now I get to add electrocution to the list!

Demystifying Acupuncture

I got electrostimulated for the first time at The Poke Clinic this afternoon (apparently, it's supposed to make the Clomid "work better") and was going to blog the experience. But I thought maybe I should write a more introductory post for anyone who hasn't tried it yet just to demystify it a little. I mean, so many of us IF bloggers write frankly about IUI, injectibles, IVF, etc, but I don't see a lot of stuff about moxibustion, cupping, electrostim, or even just plain ol' acupuncture.

My ethnic background is Asian, so you might think that I'd have grown up with getting needles stuck in me since I was kid, but nothing could be further from the truth. I grew up going to a regular ol' pediatrician at Kaiser, an HMO, and my only exposure to acupuncture was through kung fu movies.

I initially had visions of a old-bearded Chinese man with spectacles and a silk robe working out of a back room of an herb shop, but my acupuncturists are all pretty young, they're all white, and they work out of a regular medical office building. There is modern asian decor theme going on, and I'm pretty sure the place was feng-shui'd. Their office also smells faintly of herbs, which might be off-putting to some, but the smell has grown on me.

Now obviously my experiences may be radically different from someone else's, but here's the general gist of it:

• My appointments start with my acupuncturist viewing my BBT chart and getting a general rundown of my health that week - quality of sleep, changes in digestion, energy level, etc.
• The needles do poke, but they're not particularly painful, and you get acclimated to the sensation pretty quickly.
• The most noteworthy sensation is when the acupuncturist turns the needle slightly - it can sometimes cause a tingly sensation, and it feels a little bit like your nerves are being tuned. I've noticed that I'm more sensitive to this in my luteal phase, and they acknowledge that the sensitivity comes from having more progesterone in the body.
• Although a lot of acupuncture images (like the one above) show lots of needles being used, that's never been the case with me. Maybe around 6-10 needles in key points in each session. The usual areas of needling are my feet, my ankles, my calves, the side of my hand, tops of my ears, top of my head, and sometimes my lower abdomen.
• My favorite point is the one right in the middle of the forehead, where a bindi would go. One of my acupuncturists calls this the "happy point." It never fails to relax me, and I will often fall asleep during a session if I get "happy-pointed."
• It is possible to insert acupuncture needles through clothing because the points are so sharp, but thick denim can be a problem. I usually go in yoga clothes so that they can easily roll up/down sleeves, pant legs, waistbands, or insert them straight through the clothing if need be.
• Once the needles are in, my acupuncturist will usually darken the room and leave me to "cook" for 20 - 30 minutes. I'm pretty used to just zoning out or taking a light nap when they go, though it's occurred to me to load up an iPod with some inspirational thoughts or affirmations and meditate to that.
• My acupuncturists do give me herb tinctures (herb mixes distilled in alcohol) to take a few times a day. (Mr. Stick calls them my "Liza Minnelli" moments the alcohol smells pretty strong.) I take different herb mixes depending on my cycle - whether I'm menstruating, in my follicular phase, or my luteal phase.
• I do acupuncture once a week, though when I started a few months ago, they asked me to come in twice a week to "get things moving" more quickly.

But does it work?

Well, it hasn't given me a BFP yet, and that to me is the biggest litmus test. And it hasn't moved my O date (I'm a "late ovulator") like I had expected it to, though I can say that it has definitely "smoothed" out my BBT charts. My temps don't jump around as much (though that has changed with Clomid), and the temp shift in my luteal phase is very clear and strong.

I can unequivocally say that acupuncture has done wonders for my allergies. I've had the easiest cedar season in ten years since doing acupuncture. I haven't had to take Claritin, and my neti pot is actually starting to collect dust. So I know it hasn't been a waste of money and has improved the quality of my life in a measurable way.

So tomorrow - on to the electrostimming account!

Outed at the Chocolate Party

Okay, so I totally wasn't kidding about the stuffing myself with chocolate yesterday. A friend of mine had invited me to a chocolate tasting shindig where the hostess was going to have us try different types of chocolate bars she had created and film our reactions and thoughts about them.

It was a ton of fun, and I found out quickly that pretty much everything goes with dark chocolate: sriracha, jalapeno salt, candied ginger, wasabi peas...not altogether, of course. Or maybe altogether...hmm... I was told that I am a "chocolate masochist" who likes a little darkness and spice and burn and bitterness in her chocolate - I wonder if this is a metaphor for what I've been attracting in my life...

Anyway, one of the tasters brought her new 3-month-old baby to the party, and there was the usual oohing and ahhing. (He was pretty cute - a redhead!) Of course, talk turns to "When are you going to have a baby?" and "How long have you been married?"

I demurred on the baby thing as best I could ("Yeah, we want kids." and "Boy, my in-laws ask me that all the time!"). I'm okay talking about IF to friends and family, but not a party full of cheerful strangers eating chocolate.

But I must have set someone's IF-radar off, because the next thing I know, the hostess is sitting next to me, and she says quietly, "Yeah, I've been married 5 years, and we have had trouble having a child."

And before you know it, we are sharing our stories in low and hushed voices while everyone else is bustling about trying chocolate and cooing over the baby. I talk about Clomid, she talks about ectopic pregnancies, we exchange impressions and thoughts about adoption.

Except for blogging, this is the first time I have ever actually talked to someone about IF who was going through the same thing and knew what it was all about. None of the asinine advice or awkward sympathy, just a mutual sharing and condoling. I had no idea how cathartic that would feel.

One of the hardest things about IF is the isolation. I am by most measures an introvert, someone who craves time alone and enjoys solitude. I have often prided myself on my ability to be alone without feeling lonely, but IF has completely changed that for me. The pain of the experience has humbled me, taught me to reach out, to share my feelings, and to seek solace in a community of peers.

So ladies, thank you for being there. Really. (Here comes the tearing up. It's the Clomid...really...)

It's just the start of ICLW and already your comments have gone such a long way to easing that loneliness that was starting to take root. It's bad enough having that hole in your life where a baby should be - I feel blessed to have people around me making sure that hole doesn't get any bigger.

And now for something completely different...

I swear I am not making these up, but yesterday before I went to bed, I said to myself, "If you're going to have a whacked out dream, make sure it's a good one so I can entertain the blog readers." And what did I get?

I am in college, and I have a mad crush on my male roommate. We are good friends and go watersliding together. (I mean, how cool is it to have waterslides at my imaginary college?) Just when I think things might finally heat up between us, he pulls me aside and tells me he has to leave town to complete a mission involving the Cold War and asks me to stay safe. Who is my roommate? Why, Jason Bourne, of course!

Caught in a Clomid Haze...

Hello ICLW'ers! This being my first go-round on ICLW, I had a brainfart and thought it didn't start until Monday. I was planning on crafting a clever and absorbing story today to post tomorrow, but oh well - let's go with the flow. As with everything else in my life these days, I blame it on Clomid. (I'm currently on my second cycle of it, with our first IUI scheduled sometime late next week - whee!)

Clomid has become my new go-to excuse for everything that is going wrong with me. My first round of Clomid last month was so easy - no mood swings, some interesting ovary sensations, and a slightly elevated BBT - I was kind of worried it wasn't working.

Not this month though! I'm in a good enough mood at the moment to gleefully tell you that I have been bitchy, irritable, depressed, and so prone to tears that I might as well change my handle to Crying McWeepy.

It's driving Mr. Stick completely bananas, as he has been overwhelmed by a work project that is making him pretty prickly himself. We've had a couple of the stupidest fights you have ever heard of - arguments over me watching SVU while he's trying to wrap up work, arguments over the cat peeing outside her litterbox, arguments whose cause I can't even remember now - usually culminating in my dissolving into a puddle of tears while my husband wonders where on earth his usually rational and chipper wife went.

To compound the issue, Clomid is really messing with my sleep. I get ridiculously hot under the covers, tossing and turning constantly, and the crazy-whacked-out dreams have me waking up in the middle of the night going "Wha?" Some highlights:

• I am a dance teacher in a third world country having a will-they or won't-they moment with a guy that looks like the choir teacher from "Glee"
• There is a pregnancy test mixup in my house ala "Ugly Betty" between me...and my 18-year-old daughter. Turns out we are both pregnant (this is both disturbing and hopeful to me).

Of course, the big fear underlying all of this is - what if this isn't Clomid?" What if this is really me, and I've just finally become worn down by all the infertility crap? And if it is Clomid, how am I going to deal with this for the next few months? And if it isn't Clomid, how am I going to deal with this for the rest of my life?

I am such a drama queen. Ugh. Time to go bury myself in chocolate...

The Fear of Being Left Behind

I had an intense dream last night:

DH and I were going to some fancy dress banquet/party/dance thing. It was so crowded that we had to carpool into the city with friends, and there were some complicated parking logistics. We had to drop off our car at a valet parking lot, where there was a large waiting area of people waiting to grab a shuttle to the actual event.

I don't remember much of the big event, except that at some point it was ending, and I couldn't find the people I came with, including DH. It was so very crowded, and I worried that they had already headed over to the parking area and would leave without me. So I pushed through the masses of people to grab a shuttle with a bunch of strangers and remember asking them if they would give me a ride home if I couldn't find my friends.

They said, "Well, we all live in the city, and you are too far out. But you can stay with one of us if you need to." 

We got to the large waiting area of people who were waiting for the valets to deliver the car, and I couldn't find my friends or DH anywhere. As I walk around, I keep running into people I know who want to chat, so I talk a little but keep my eye out for my friends. 

Then, in the corner of my eye, I spot that their big yellow car has pulled up, and everyone is already in it, preparing to leave. I frantically pound on the window (of the waiting room, not the car) hoping to get their attention so they know not to leave me.

As I turn around, I realize that I don't have all my stuff with me, and I begin to gather it up. And the more things I pick up (a jacket, a purse, a change of clothes, books, wallet, even little gift bags with jewelry boxes), the more things I realize I have brought with me. The process of gathering my things takes at least five or ten minutes, as I have so much I keep dropping something.

Finally, I dash out into the lot holding my ginormous pile of crap. The valet says something like, "You're too late. They've already left." I feel completely deflated and start darting my eyes for a taxi, cursing over how expensive it is going to be to get one from the city to home. 

And then I see them. My friends waving at me. They had driven out of the valet area to park on the side and wait for me. They seem a little annoyed that I got lost but more troubled that I had thought they would leave me behind. I am so, so relieved. And then I wake up.

I don't always sit around analyzing my dreams, but then again they rarely come to me in such vivid detail. The moment I woke up, I knew inside that this was all about my issues with infertility. IF is so heavy and ever-present on my mind these days that it's residing on all levels of consciousness.

So here are the thoughts and questions I've had running through my head:

• To me, the dream clearly represents my fear of being left behind, as my friends start families around me. It's also one of feeling bad (though not necessarily regretful) of waiting so long to start trying. Did I stay at the party too long? 
• The most troubling part of the dream was losing DH and navigating the crowd alone. What does it mean that he was with my friends and not with me? Or was it because he was with my friends that they waited so patiently for me to come?
• The strangers who lived in the city were so obviously childless to me. They were well-dressed, edgy, bon-vivant types, with no intention of driving me to where I wanted to go but welcoming me to stay with them. I think they represent an child free lifestyle that is fun and carefree. I don't want that life, but it is not so wholly unappealing to me. 
• One of the people I ran into when I was in the valet waiting area is a friend who has given up the potential for a typical family life for a solitary calling as a Catholic monk. I was happy to see him, but...whoa...
• What does the car of friends really represent? On the surface, it seems to be a symbol for family, fertility, comfort, familiarity. But the driver of the car was a good friend of mine who is gay and childless (with no intention of having children), so it's not so obvious.
• Taking the taxi seems to be like...getting IVF. Expensive, not the way I planned, but it will get me to where I want to be.
• What is with ALL the stuff I am gathering up? Are they expectations? Are they experiences? Why am I so unwilling to leave behind my crap when I'm running the risk of missing my ride? What are these things weighing me down? Why are these things weighing me down?
• And as anxiety-provoking as the dream was, it had a happy ending, didn't it? They were waiting for me, when I worried that they had left me behind. So is this dream telling me that everything will be ok? Or is it saying that I'm really cutting it close and need to hurry along?

Scared to pick up the phone...

Not a lot of people in our lives know about our IF struggle as of yet - just our parents and siblings, and my friend N with whom I have this unspoken agreement that we can call each other at any time of day/night when we're having an emotional meltdown. We have this strange but easy relationship where we absolutely do not understand what the other is going through (infertility on my side, a child with developmental issues on N's side) and yet this somehow results in a non-judgmental atmosphere of pure empathy and total support.

One person I have not been able to tell is my best friend M, who lives out of state. We've been friends since high school, we traveled to Europe together after college, she was in my wedding party, etc. One reason is that she has been on me since I got married about having children. She is the one person I can rely on to ask me the, "Are you pregnant yet?" question in every phone conversation.

This actually never bothered me during the first...um...5 years because we weren't even trying. In fact, I would often retort that I was waiting for her to get married herself so we could have kids at the same time.

You can already see what will happen, right? M meets an amazing guy (which I am so thankful for, because there were quite a few losers in between), gets married, and conceives within the first 3 months of trying...right around the time DH and I start.

Now, I should explain that one thing that I'm so very grateful for is my ability to detach from my infertility pain when it comes to other women getting pregnant. It makes me feel wistful and sad for my own situation, but I don't have a hard time putting that away and being genuinely happy for them. I can listen to the pregnancy stories, do the baby showers (though I've always disliked bridal and baby showers - even before IF), and play happily with the kids. This probably isn't a healthy thing (and I suspect this ability comes from some rather unpleasant aspects of my upbringing), but for now I consider it an acceptable coping mechanism.

Even so, ever since M gave birth, I've limited my contact with her to mostly email, Facebook, and cards. Not to avoid the news about her kid, who I love hearing about and is the cutest guy in the world, but to avoid the inevitable question. I know I can't hold out forever, and I'm sure M suspects something is up, but I'm at least hoping I can wait until I'm back in my hometown this summer, and I can blubber my sad story to her over coffee. Or better yet, smoothies, because I'll be pregnant by then (oh the things we tell ourselves)...

But this weekend, M starts emailing me about how long it's been since we've talked over the phone. And then she calls and leaves a message while I'm out to dinner this evening.

So I sit there thinking that maybe I should just be brave and call her tomorrow afternoon and tell her. Because I'm being unfair keeping this kind of information from my best friend, who I know will never be able to say the right thing in return but will be genuinely sympathetic and loving to me.

And then the thought hits me...what if she's not calling to ask me if I'm pregnant? What if she is calling me to tell me that she is pregnant...again?

Detached or not, the thought of this fills me with absolute horror. Because even if I can be happy for her, how can I bring myself to tell her about IF if she is happily expecting? And if I don't tell her now, she will be so hurt when I finally do tell her this summer. Or worse, what if I were to unburden myself before she told me her news? That would put her in a terribly awkward situation.

I can't believe I'm devoting so much energy and worry to a completely hypothetical situation!

Let's Get the Formalities Over With, Shall We?

The Demographics

• Me: 33 years old
• DH: 39 years old
• Trying actively since: 2/2008
  (Though I gave up the Pill way back in 1/2005 and started charting. I look at my "trying to avoid" charts of those days with great derision.)
• Married since: 8/2002
  (Laying ground here for the inevitable "What took you so long?" post.)

The Diagnosis

Can "kind-of explained infertility" be a diagnosis?

There are no showstoppers here - DH's sperm count is pretty good, my tubes are intact and clear, I ovulate regularly on my own with a "beautiful" (according to my acupuncturist) biphasic pattern, and there is no evidence of PCOS or endometriosis. But there are a couple of less-than-normal, not-so-textbook things going on:

• My cycles are long. I ovulate around CD21 - CD25.
• My cycles are inconsistent and get even longer with stress. When I first started charting, I ovulated like a clock around CD19 - CD20; once we really started trying and I began obsessing over my cycle, my O date developed a tardiness problem.
• I could have a thin uterine lining, as my menstrual periods have always been pretty light. The only real evidence I have of this is an ultrasound from this cycle on CD15 with a mature follicle and a 6.5mm lining, but I'm on Clomid, which my RE thinks is the cause.
• I have a tipped uterus. Apparently it's obvious because every gynecologist/OB/RE/MD I've visited sees the need to mention this - along with the fact that it shouldn't affect my fertility. I really wonder, though...
• DH has "less than normal" morphology - around 15%, which sounded horrible until I learned that normal morphology is around 30%. Which still sounds horrible, because it means he has half the normal morphology. But my RE isn't sweating over this and doesn't think we should either. 

My RE thinks I have ovulation dysfunction, and all this will be easily solved with a couple rounds of Clomid.

My acupuncturist thinks I have unexplained infertility and wonders why my RE isn't more concerned about DH's morphology.

So that's why I've arrived at: "kind-of explained infertility."

The Current Regimen

• Acupuncture - I've been doing it off and on with a licensed acupuncturist in my neighborhood for years for seasonal allergies. Then last November, I started going regularly to a TCM clinic that specializes in fertility. They've managed to completely eliminate my allergies but have been unable to budge my O date.
• Clomid - After giving acupuncture a few cycles, I started Clomid last month. I'm relieved to say that none of the things that I was worried about (crazy mood swings, hot flashes, hyperstimulation of my ovaries) occurred. Of course, now I'm scared that this means that the Clomid is not working.
• Vitamins - Prenatals for me and something called "Fertility Blend for Him" for DH. You know, because of the morphology thing. 

Why I'm Broadcasting this Information to the Internets

Because the pain of holding it all in has started hurting me so much more than the pain of letting it all out. I spend so much time being stoic, being clinical, being detached. I look so good on the outside. People (those who know, that is) tell me that I'm taking this in stride with such a healthy outlook.

Well, I'm not. Someone should give me an Academy Award for fooling all of you, because I am coming apart at the seams. Or a baby. Yeah, a baby would be so much better.

The Fortune Cookie Lied

Yesterday, I was 13 DPO with a record-high bbt of 98.6.  I felt that I had reason to be hopeful. It was my first month on Clomid. My LH surge was so strong I ovulated within 24 hours, on Day 16 with the full moon. The stars were going to align. I could feel it in the little pinches in my uterus.

DH and I went out for Chinese, and we joked gaily about this fortune that I drew. We've had a lot of bizarre luck with fortune cookies in the years past, and this was perfect. Unambigiously optimistic, well-timed, written in quirky-yet-catchy bad english. I saved it, envisioning that it would go into the scrapbook along with the positive pregancy test I was going to surely get in a few days.

This morning, I am 14 DPO with a record bbt drop to 97.5. I have been here before. Enough times to know that even if the fortune cookie lied, the thermometer never does.