I called the clinic for the SA today and scheduled a drop off for next Friday at 8AM. I am not very pleased with the time and date, but the only way to drop off "the goods" in the time allotted and at the proper body temp, we would have to do it in the morning, and the only morning appointment I could do would be next Friday. Far away, but gives me time to plan how I will manage to pull this off without freaking out. I am pretty convinced that I will trip and fall or get into a car accident and have to explain why I have "the goods" on my person. Awkward . . .
Onto the plan we have decided on:
We will wait for the SA results to come back in, and once we make sure that Mr. Joe is fine (which he is) I will start the progesterone, assuming I don't get AF before then (which I won't). I'll take that for 10 days, then wait for AF and start Clomid. . .
Magically, I will ovulate and Mr. Joe and I will get it on at the right time for once. I will be a patient girl and not test obsessively until it is time, at which point I will discover that I am knocked up. There will be some kind of clever way that I will tell Mr. Joe, and he will have an amazing reaction which will reaffirm the reason I am in love with him. I will make an adorable pregnant lady, the kind that is all baby, and no extra flub anywhere. In fact, all of my body fat will migrate to the baby, thus creating the cutest tubbiest baby ever. I will be envied by skinny Kari at work and will finally know what its like to walk without my thighs rubbing together. Mr. Joe and I will annoy everyone by withholding Baby Joe's sex and name until after he is born. After 9 peaceful and glorious months, I will go into labor and have the quickest and most painless natural child birth ever. Baby Joe, being the chubbiest, most beautiful baby on earth, will be hailed as a picture of perfect health. Mr. Joe and I will win some kind of baby-making award for spawning Baby Joe. The prize will be one million dollars. I won't have to go back to being a phone monkey in the call center anymore!
. . . At least that's the plan I have in my head. If we follow this, we should be ready to be knocked up in March. I'm okay with that I think. We might have a baby by Christmas! At least that's our hope, but we know how screwy I am so I'll be crossing my fingers!