Working Mom woke me up early by showing me the blue “I’m ovulating!” line on a piece of plastic she’d just peed on.
We’re trying to get pregnant, you see, so this was, no question, good news. And outwardly, I gave every sign of excitement and anticipation.
Inwardly, though, I couldn’t help but think…
I went to bed at 2 a.m., then was up for nearly an hour at 4:30 a.m. Now, it’s 8 a.m. and Boobaby is blessedly still asleep. Maybe this news — this wonderful, joyous news! — could have waited a little?
The excitement is also moderated a bit by the obvious implication that WM and I will be having sex later. WM, in fact, let me know that she’ll be coming home during Boo’s afternoon nap just for that purpose. And I’m all for sex, don’t get me wrong, but I dunno, there’s something about scheduling it that discomfits me a little.
Do you know about anglerfish? They’re deep-sea fish — think of that scary one in the dark in Finding Nemo — and they are so sparsely populated that when a male and a female find each other, the male bites the female, latches on, and never lets go for the rest of his life. His vital organs (except for one!) disappear, his blood vessels intertwine with hers, and his sole purpose in life is to provide his gametes to the female. There’s a male in the picture, near the tail fin.
Marine biologists have a term for a male anglerfish. It’s “sack of sperm.”
Sigh. I suppose I’m overreacting, and it is nice to get back into it. And maybe make a baby!
Am I asking too much to have wanted to sleep in a few more minutes before getting that news?