Last week, I got a call from my doctor telling me that the results of my blood test weren't as great as the nurse would have had me believe. According to my progesterone levels, I hadn't ovulated. Since my period came less than a week after the test, this news was not terribly welcome. Some at home testing this week is proving to be just as upsetting. Can't make an omelet without any eggs.

What is strange is how hard this development has hit me. I knew we would have to overcome the vasectomy and I know I'm not exactly in the prime of my fertility, but I figured I had a few old eggs still rattling around inside me. My periods never stopped (Which I find to be the height of rudeness. I'm talking to you, body. If you're not gonna release the eggs, why ya gotta make me cramp and bleed?)

The doctor seems in a rush. Maybe because she's my age and has kids already. Maybe because I cry in her office too often. Of course, there's hope. It may be as simple as taking a medication to force those damned eggs out of hiding or as complicated as IVF. The rushing doctor is hopeful. As is the husband. But I can't help but wish for the stupid ovulation test strip to show two lines and have everything happen naturally. That hope will stay alive until the next period starts. Then some new doctors will get to hear my cry!