Not Feelin' It

At the gas station I can smell the sink of benzene – if I sniff really, really hard.

And heading up and down the stairs my chest hurts – if I run really, really fast.

And in the mornings I feel like barfing – if I eat something that doesn’t mesh with my system at all.

The first (and only) time I was pregnant I could tell within 48 hours. People think I’m nuts when I say this but I swear it’s true. My body was that sensitive and tuned-in (no major sniffing or running required).

Of course the downside to my intuition is that I can also tell within 48 hours that I’m not preggers. ("I'm not feelin' it," I keep saying to my husband.)

It's been well over 48 hours. Sigh.

Sidenote: Okay, I feel compelled to offer apologies to random people who are stopping by this blog. I don’t mean to spill too much information all over the page, but the topic of infertility (I think) needs some deserved attention. I was talking with my mom on the phone earlier tonight about this whole issue, and at the end of it all I just felt the way I’ve felt all along: that a lot of people struggle with infertility but don’t like to talk about it because it’s so emotionally devastating. And it is emotionally devastating – but for whatever reason I feel comfortable being open about my journey. I just hope that by doing so I’m helping and not hindering (sort of like: hey, if you’re going through this you’re not alone type of thing).

On a happier note, I'm off to Chicago to meet a bunch of bloggers and visit my old college roommate...I'll post from the road!