OMG, this is my ONE HUNDREDTH POST! (on a side note, it took me 4 tries to spell hundredth correctly – I guess its not a word I write often.)
I can remember birthing this blog (well, actually, birthing the blog on blogger, but I switched not long after.) It feels like it wasn’t so long ago – like this blogging thing is still new territory. In fact, its been just about 9 months – 38 weeks, actually. Which means its more accurate to say that I remember conceiving this blog; I have yet to really birth it. At least, if the gestational period of blogs follows that of human babies.
I thought this would be a record of this experience, and it is. I didn’t guess there were so many other queers out there documenting their path to parenthood, and I didn’t realize what a network could be formed. It has been a gift and a comfort to follow along the stories of so many other people on all different parts of this maddening trajectory – from thinking about babies, to trying to make them, to gestating them, to birthing them and then on to raising them.
If I am honest, I would tell you I thought I would be pregnant by now. On Monday evening I found out an aquaintance/girl I went on a couple of dates with many years ago is pregnant. I wrote her an e-mail saying “congrats! yay gaybies!” and also “will you tell me what you did and how it went?” She obliged and admitted they got knocked up on their first IUI. This morning I thought about what that experience must be like. To try something like this and just have it . . .work. I think I am glad it didn’t work the first time, but I also wonder now if I can imagine getting a positive pregnancy test anymore. Even with the burbling hope of another two week wait in my chest, I still can’t honestly see us getting a positive test. Its just out of my ability to imagine at this point; it wasn’t in February. I’m also sure it will. Sometime soon.
I thought in celebration of Blog Post 100, I would clue you in on some of the most hilarious/creepy/weird search engine terms that have landed people at my blog:
-excited about tracking ovulation (me too!!!)
-lesbian babymoob (I think this was maybe supposed to be babymoon?? or babyboom?)
-why am i resentful sex tampons birth control lesbian (Nothing on the web can answer that question for you)
-smart lesibane mom
-lesbianism fairly urine between two girls
-awesome sperm shacks
-needleless syringe made my ass bleed when will it stop?
+ a LOT of stuff that is creepy dirty and I won’t subject you to (its the gay thing, isn’t it?) and A LOT of fat girl pin up searches which seem mostly not f’d up. The great world of google searches is a fascinating peak into the human mind.
I have resolved to NOT look for/record/obsess over any ‘symptoms’ I experience during this TWW. This means I am limiting my own weird google searches. I have, instead, taken to reading the Plus Size Mommy Memoirs and Plus Size Birth (on a side note, I HATE ‘plus size’ although I know its widely accepted. I prefer “fat” as it seems more, you know, accurate. But I get that people have ambivalent feelings about that. I do too.) Also, Birth Without Fear if you’re not yet familiar. Somehow, this feels generally more productive and comforting than obsessing over everything that is happening. Then again, I’m only 5 days past ovulation. So . . .we shall see how long I hold out.
In other news, BFF has an appointment on Monday to get the ol’ swim team checked out. I’m still hopeful that we will get the results to our own little test that will make the $150 one moot, but I’m not taking any chances. In between now and that good ol’ HPT is a trip to Portland, OR for our dear friends’ wedding (with stops to see some really great babies who we haven’t met yet!) – which should help pass the time.
I’m especially hoping this try works so I can say our kid was conceived on the 4th of July, which would be fun because the 4th of july is like such a non-holiday for me. really, I kind of hate it. I just don’t like blowing stuff up or commemorating blowing stuff up, you know? So, that would be ironic and fun.
Wait #6, the fly by the seat of your pants wait.