I kind of hesitate to write about this out on the open internet (I wrote "interweb" the first time because I invented that term, but since everybody uses it now, I decided it is lame). I hesitate to write about it using even cute, cliched or clever euphemisms. I mean, after all, I have no idea who reads this blog. I probably have at least one stalker who reads it, and god knows he or she could be some crazy pervert who will totally get off on this information.
So let's put it this gentle way: I have received confirmation that I am indeed eligible for another pregnancy.
I was a little glad to, um, get the news, actually. The only alternative diagnosis was that I was going bat shit crazy. I forgot what it was like to be a member of the fertile population, what with the mood swings. The anxiety. The stuffing of the mouth with as much sugar as possible. The adverse reaction to alcohol (see last weekend's hangover). The difficulty concentrating. The vague feelings of discomfort - slash - possible imminent death. I only started to connect the dots yesterday afternoon, and then lo and behold - by bedtime it all made perfect sense.
So what's the first thing a previously believed to be bat shit crazy woman who now knows she's just fertile again does? Why, naturally, check the online due date calculator to find out when the baby would be born if she went ahead and got knocked up again, of course!
December 17th. If you were wondering.