One of the things I was intensely “insane” about, as a lot of my peer friends still are: the trials involved in conceiving children. We were “lucky” in that we were only mildly infertile, and our problems were inexpensively correctable - mostly by simply waiting and waiting and waiting to hit that fertile jackpot and hanging onto it.

So much of those journeys I chronicled, with and without my electronic bit-ty friends inside of the computer, heading to the ladies room twice a day to take an ovulation test and faithfully charting the results (and badly photographing them, curse the cheap camera phones I had).

I’ve been looking at my charts, and darn if they aren’t sporadic. One “late” CD 19 ovulation, and a mid-fifties - with precious results. And yet through every failed cycle, there was always hopeful Opal in my head, no matter how pessimistic Worst Case Kate got.

Here’s wishing Julie and a few less-publicly blogging friends fiesty fertile follicles!