She Called Me First

My phone rang this morning. I know because I heard it from my bed. M said it was the second time someone was trying to call me. The pillow over my ears must have blocked the first ring.

When I finally moseyed out of bed, I checked. It was my friend L. She also sent me a text saying "Call Me!"

So, naturally, I did. Especially because last night we were trading texts about when she was going to take The Test.

She couldn't wait until tomorrow, so she did it today and it was positive. Her husband didn't even know yet because she wanted to tell him in person and he wasn't home. I am so incredibly happy for her!

Then, I got off the phone with her and M said "I hope you're not wanting to try because you're in a race with her." {Insert mental image of my mouth-dropping open and a shocked grunting sort of sound issuing forth from it.}

The diatribe that flowed thereafter went something like "yeah, 'cause I'm an idiot! I'm immature. I'm a ten year old who wants the toy her friend just got. That was really rude of you to say! Besides, I was pregnant FIRST! I'm not in a race. Our paths just happen to be parallel, but the decision you and I've made has nothing to do with our friends! It's not you and me and V and L, it's you and me! You're mean! Besides, I thought I resolved this concern (missionary phrase) with you yesterday!"

Clearly, it was the wrong thing for him to say, which mistake he caught on to very quickly.

Yes, yesterday and again today that conversation once again took place. The one where we hash out the pros and cons of trying again. Mostly his cons include the same: school and job. Me? I'm ready. Well, in so far as I have no decent reasons for waiting, that is.

But, now I'm all freaked out about when to try in terms of ovulation. I'm so scared I'll have another miscarriage and that it might be because we conceived too far in advance of or even just after ovulation. That kind of timing can have an affect, you know. You didn't? Yeah, neither did I until I started reading books. So much for Information being a comfort to me. Crappity crap crap!

Whatever. Chances are I won't miscarry again. Unless, of course, I'm a recurrent miscarrier (which title I am not vying for in any way, shape or form), in which case, chances are pretty good, even there's no way to know that until it happens 2 more times. Here's hoping that it doesn't happen again. (Ever EVER again.)

~Nichole