Jill explains

That's better. I'm back in my normal clothes. Today it's a v-neck tshirt that highlights what Julie might call my own opulent rack.

I'm starting with this blog because my husband (E) and I have been trying to get me knocked up since September 2003, the earilest possible time to avoid me dealing with baby and school at the same time.

Lo, we did it in four months, but I had a miscarriage at 10 weeks.

So I finished the damn degree.

I think I was pregnant for a couple weeks the next fall, but a suspiciously heavy period was the end of that.

Four weeks ago I tested positive, but yet another bonus period dashed that glimmer.

So where are we now?

1. Charting my temp.
   
   
2. Using ovulation test kits (which don't work).
   
   
3. Taking vitamins and supplements. E's are called "Virility" and come in a bottle with a ruggedly handsome, dark man in a chunky fisherman's sweater, with his arm around a dog. Actually, that sounds pretty hot. Mine (Vitex extract) are in a tincture that smells like bongwater. (Not that I would remember. I haven't done drugs since, let's see, Clinton's first term.)
   
   
4. Working out.
   
   
5. Giving up coffee and alcohol (except for a drink now and then, to make #8 below easier). Never have smoked.
   
   
6. Giving up baths (E's coffee substitute).
   
   
7. No boxers. In fact, no underwear at night. Makes #9 below easier.
   
   
8. Slacking off. Stress reduction is important, so I try to blog at work as much as possible.
   
   
9. Having as much sex as we can stand. This is not always as fun as it might sound, due in no small part to E's large part. Ever eat too much chocolate mousse cake? Yeah.
   
   Add to that our postcoital routine, which involves waving my naked ass in the air for a half hour (especially cringeworthy in the cold cold winter) and putting in an Instead menstrual cup to keep the precious seed from spilling.
   
   
10. Seen doctors:
1. Visit #1, both of us: "Relax! Use an OvuQuick test! Chart your temp! That'll be $121 please."
2. Visit #2, E only: "Your sperm is bad. We want to run another test. That'll be $110 please."
3. Visit #3, E only: "Your sperm is not so bad. Count good, motility low. Have more sex. That'll be another $110 please."
4. Visit #4, me only: "We like to wait for three losses, but we can do artificial insemination ($600 per) now if you want. That doubles your chances each time. And if you want us to go ahead and inject fluid into your tubes and x-ray them ($800) we'll do that, too. That'll be $121 please."

So now we're saving up for the next round. We're fastidious about our money and firmly in the overprivileged American middle class, but it's not like we have thousands to throw at the problem.

I think we also need to relax. E has wanted kids since he was one. I've come to that point much more recently. We're still young. But all our parents had trouble having us, so we don't want to delay involving the profesionels.

Hence the blog (which, incidentally, is full of strategic lies). While our friends and coworkers are popping them out like Pez dispensers all around, we're private people. We don't want to rain on their parades or be objects of sympathy or unsolicited advice.

Lord knows no one who blogs about their reproductive choices gets unsolicited advice, right?

I just hope I get a pregnancy to stick and can shut down this blog as soon as possible. Hence its title.