Wednesday, March 7, 2007

The egg timer

When Ryan and I first started dating people (my Mother) were always asking us when we were going to get married. We would squirm, they would get their perverse thrill and the moment would pass. Then, like days after we got engaged the question changed -- now it was "when are you going to have a baby." We always an sered the same was "2007." After all, this was 2004 and with a three year window anything could happen. Hell, I figured a cars would be flying and no one would wear anything other than silver metallic jumpsuits. But now it is 2007, and people (my Mother) are wondering when our offspring will be arriving.

The short answer is, I don't know. I'm pretty sure Ryan and I are doing everything right. I've bought all of the vitamins and have peed on a variety of strips meant to determine everything from ovulation to my seasonal color palate (I'm a spring). And, of course, I am wearing the watch.

The watch was given to me by our medical expert at the station, in the hopes that I will be her guinea pig for a future story. It tracks my body temperature and the level of chloride (who knew) in my sweat and then
magically tells me when I am at my most fertile. I was kind of hoping it would do so with a loud alarm and a announcement of "fertility has started, commence humping now" but it turns out the display just changes from "not fertile" to "fertile, day one."The watch resembles something that I would have worn in fourth grade. That does not mean I am advocating fourth graders wearing it though -- they really should wait to worry about fertility. Its purple and has a stretchy band and big buttons. All it needs is a Hello Kitty face next to the cycle day readout. I had to wear it to work today (I forgot to put it on last night) and only one person commented -- and she thought it was a promotional item from Burger King.

Ryan still isn't sold on the watch. I think he worries its making me obsessive. The other night the battery light started blinking and I almost ran to Smith's in my pajamas for a replacement until I read in the instruction book that the battery light comes on TWO WEEKS before the bettery will actually die. Does that make me obsessive? I didn't think so.

I wonder if my ferility will lose an hour on Saturday night?

3 comments:

Cate said...

Maybe you are becoming a little more obsessive, but come on, who are you tyring to fool. We all know that you are the most obsessive person in the family.

Amanda said...

Ding! Fries are done.

Ellen said...

I think it would be cool if it showed a little digital egg dropping down a fallopian tube... then getting fertilized... and then you could keep it alive, like a tamagochi. Remember those? They were cool.