Fertility Help? Bollocks

Dear Diary,

I went to the doctor today to see if we could have some fertility tests run or something. Here's a transcript:

Doctor: How can I help you today, Anna?

Me: John and I have been trying to get pregnant, and we haven't had any luck... so I thought I'd see if you could run some tests and find out what the problem is?

Doctor: (consulting my file) You're 29, right?

Me: Yes! Not getting any younger.

Doctor: And how long have you been trying?

Me: 6 months, now.

Doctor: Oh, that's nothing to worry about! It takes lots of couples longer than that. Just relax and you'll be pregnant before you know it.

Me: Just RELAX? (steam coming out of my ears) What the hell do you mean, just relax?

Doctor: In other words, calm down, Anna.

Me: I'm assuming you've never been a woman. Am I right?

Doctor: (looking a little confused) Yes...

Me: So you've never ovulated?

Doctor: (looking a little irritated, but still confused) No, Anna.

Me: Then shut the hell up! You sound like a hippy herbalist who wears hemp clothes. Worse! At least the hippy would offer me something to help me relax!

Doctor: Don't shout at me!

Me: Why not? (voice getting louder and more shrill) You're a patronising twit who wouldn't know the first thing about trying to get pregnant, aren't you? You didn't even bother asking how long my cycles are, whether I've been ovulating, how long my luteal phase is, or if I get egg-white cervical mucous! Do you KNOW what a luteal phase is?

Doctor: Oh, Billings...

Me: NO! Basic biology! IDIOT!

And I stamped out.

Do you think I could've handled that better?

Boring

Dear Diary,

I just read over the last few pages, and I realised something. Well, more than one something:

• I'm boring.
• I'm obsessed with TTC.
• Any future child of mine reading this would be snoring by now.

Crud. I'm a boring, obsessed snore-inspirer.

Maybe I should write more about the rest of our life... like... my work.

I sit in front of a computer all day, program stuff, and drink coffee. It's nice coffee.

OK, work's boring too. Hobbies? Writing in this diary. Watching TV. Hey, there was a half-decent Neighbours episode on tonight, that shouldn't happen again for years! LANDMARK occasion!

I've turned into my mother.

Sick Part 2

Dear Diary,

John is refusing to have sex with me because I'm sick and might transfer my germs to him. I asked him what happened to "in sickness and in health", and he said he didn't realise that included sex.

So I licked the spoon when I made dinner.

Sick

Dear Diary,

I've succeeded! I feel like crud. I'm sick in bed, all my joints hurt, and I'm throwing up every half hour. Is this what morning sickness feels like? I'm starting to wonder if we should just adopt.

I don't feel like having sex. I want to sleep.