I am absolutely thrilled to know that I am capable of ovulating (albeit with some chemical help). I was literally BEAMING all Monday night, as if that smiley face was a positive pregnancy test. I called my husband over to marvel at it and then skipped around the house like a nutcase. I am excited. I am over the moon. There is no denying that.
I am also, all kidding aside, really, really terrified. I’ve been off birth control since May, I’ve been to doctors, I’ve had tests, I’ve taken Clomid, and yet now, it feels like it is really happening for the first time. I read somewhere (again, I’m doing a great job with citations) that about 30% of women on Clomid get pregnant the first time they use it (up from about 25% of women who get pregnant the first time they try to conceive naturally). So, there’s a higher chance that I don’t conceive this month than that I do. (And honestly, I think just knowing my insides are functional would be totally enough this month. If that’s all I get.) However, I am, by actually ovulating for probably the first time since I met my husband six years ago, stacking the odds in favor of conception and that is both fantastically exciting and paralyzingly scary.
Does everyone feel this way? Overanalyzing makes me feel equal parts inadequate and totally healthy. I mean, who wouldn’t think this is scary?
Finally, I had half of a 12 ounce pumpkin spice latte today before becoming convinced I had just ruined our conception chances for this month by getting juiced on caffeine. The conception hypochondria continues. All is right with the world.