That is the Question

I generally assume that my lovely little audience is exclusively female. With the honourable exception of my regular lost-in-cyberspace hairy porn surfers, of course, but to be frank, I am assuming that anyone who is actively googling for the lower end of a hairy granny is not of a delicate disposition, and can consequently look after themselves just fine. So, this is me tentatively enquiring: are there any men here today?! No? No-one hiding behind a pair of virtual falsies? Cool. I can talk about me EWCM then.

I have a sticky conundrum. My hormones are patently just as buggered-up as normal, but there is a faint and exceedingly far-off possibility that deep in my very chubby tummy, an ovary is Doing Her Stuff. Now, despite the fact that my chance of becoming pregnant all by myself (so to speak) is somewhere between Fat and None, my instinct is to fling myself lasciviously towards the startled and delighted hubby. Bless him: he can never get too much. Most of him is 36, but his willy remains in its enthusiastic and effervescent late-teens.

However.

I do not, at all, want to be pregnant just now. I am 4 stone overweight, my super-input-demanding child is not yet one year old, and pregnancy always (if successful, it would be my fifth bloody go at it) makes me exhausted, miserable (in a nice way) and sick as a dog. It’s unfair of me to plan to spend Harry’s formative months of learning to walk and talk lying on the sofa cuddling a bucket. Or in hospital, miscarrying. Or in hospital, on bedrest. Or in hospital, sitting next to a premature baby. Or with my joy in our son’s childhood blighted by my grief at losing that baby. I can’t shortchange Harry like that; he’s too precious to us. If we can never have another child, he is so much more than enough. We are daily overwhelmed with just how fabulous he is.

But but but. What if I am ovulating, and won’t do it again for…. well, ever? My ovaries are somewhat pathetic and don’t exactly provide a plethora of opportunities for conception. What if this is the only baby-window I’m going to get? Before we got as far as IUI & IVF, we tried for 2 years: tracking my ovulation (never even saw its bloody footprints) and then 6 months on Clomid, and got nowhere. Admittedly, I hadn’t figured out the mucus thing back then, but even so, eggs from Ann are scarce. I’m 34 in February, so the ones that are hanging about aren’t going to get any fresher, either. 

In short, ARRGGHH! To shag, or not to shag?

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