Yea, I said it.

First off, what the fucking fuck?  I say that with all sincerity knowing full well that as a mom I should watch what falls out of my mouth for wee ones are like sponges and absorb everything and thus repeat everything but I'm almost 100% certain my child's first word will be fuck to begin with so fuck it. 

So, I repeat--what the fucking fuck?!  I've been working out religiously for about a month, eating 1300-1500 calories per day religiously for a month, and my scale hasn't budged.  Seriously?!  SERIOUSLY?!  I mean sure, I feel so much better, my clothes fit much better, and I lost a few inches here and there, but c'mon!

I know, I know--it's all about how you feel, how you look, how clothes fit, but would it kill my scale to budge slightly?!  Even like a half a pound?  Uch!

Great, glad we got that out of the way. Now onto the regularly scheduled program of no rhyme or reason.

It's about that time again.

Yes, yes it is.  It's about that time wherein I get all gung-ho and psycho about trying for child number two.  I've dusted off the fertility monitor, I've started up the BBT again, and I'm ramping up my vigilant watch of ovulation cues all in preparation for the end of March where it's game on.

But....

It turns out that the lovely massage-filled Sunday He-Rizzle and I had on February 5th as a pre-Valentines-shit-is-to-expensive-on-the-actual-day date may have helped my cause along.  By the way, awesome date huh?  Massage and the Superbowl.  Yea, my husband is one lucky guy.  Anyway, the stars aligned somewhat in that I actually ovulated that day, and I actually got laid that day, and now I'm all wondering if maybe, possibly, perchance, there's severe nausea, back pain, and another panic attack on a c-section table in my not so distant future.

I know the odds are highly against me.  It took almost two years to get pregnant with wee-rizzle and a few miscarriages as well, so I'm really not holding my breath.  However, the fact EVERYTHING is a damn pregnancy symptom isn't helping.

Like I said, I know I'm not that lucky....but?  What if?  I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I'm a glutton for disappointment; thus, allowing my feeble little mind to wander on over in that direction.  I guess I'll know soon enough.