(*This is a lie. I'm dreading it.)
The thing about ovulation tests is that I almost look forward to them, until I actually have to do them, and then I hate them. That is, I hate them until they're positive. Then, I LOVE 'EM!
But nine times out of ten, there's nothing. Just one little blue line. No matter what time I pee, it's always negative. Waiting for a LH surge is like looking for the Loch Ness monster. You know it's been seen before, but when you're there staring at the lake, it never surfaces. There's only so much peeing on one's hand one can take, dammit.
I can only hope that my uterine lining builds up like it's supposed to, after one period, as my doctor suggested. I can only hope the egg and sperm have a romantic date and get it on. I can only hope I don't get pee on my hand when I use the ovulation kit.
Unlike cupcakes and Law and Order marathons, peeing on my hand gets old REAL quick. It's akin to stale vaudeville jokes and seat kickers in the movie theater.
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