… or Christopher Toast.

Amy emails me: “So, has the eagle landed?” I kept intending to keep all this news to myself, but I really didn’t. I’ve been chatting about it to practically everybody, in bits and pieces. But I won’t post this unless it’s part of an interesting story… still a little too early to tell…

But there it was: a cardboard box 4 feet high, about a foot square, with a giant thermos full of something extremely cold, and some genetic material. The cat kept trying to sit on the box, and then (because it was noticeably chilly) looking grumpy and getting down again.

I’d been nervous/excited for too many days in a row to be sure of my charting – all the signs I was watching for were a little off. But I can now confirm: when you ovulate it totally makes your saliva form a snowflake/fern pattern on a microscope slide.  I mean seriously, how cool is that?

And of course the box was delivered the day lil E was staying over AND my parents were coming to dinner. A few days later I ended up staying up very, very late, trying to play solitaire on the computer with my feet up on the wall. “Playing solitaire” has taken on a whole new level of metaphorical meaning. ;)

If there’s anything to tell, it’s now a small disk 2 cells thick. My mom says if it’s a girl I can name her Fern. I actually think that’s fairly hilarious.

ETA:  Yeah, for a long time I was trying to have a baby “the old-fashioned way.”  Er… sort of.  I didn’t blog about this, in general.  When I did write about it I kept it to myself.  But a year and a half later?  What the hell – might as well post it.  A lot of water under that bridge…