The Language of Babymaking

As many of you know, thanks to my lovely husband's big ass mouth, Jake and I have been dabbling in the world of trying to conceive, or impregnation as Jake would say. It is a lot harder than people may think, and in true Bri-fashion, I have made it my obsession. Luckily, after some online investigation, I have found that I am not alone. There are many, many, many more women crazier than me. While this does come as somewhat of a comfort, it opens me to the world of Women TTC (trying to conceive), and these women are crazy yo.

They have their own little language of acronyms. Here is a sample of a post:

"If your last cycle was 23 days and you O'd on day 9, then subtract 9 from 23 and you will get 14. That is your LP. So you would expect to have a 14 day LP this time as well. I would predict AF on the 15th day post O 'd for you, which would be 4 days from 11 DPO."

Say Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Trying to wade through the sea of letters is like trying to watch Telemundo -- I get the gist of what is happening, but I am not quite sure what they are trying to say. In addition to the acronyms, there is also a lot of math and charting involved. I really have no desire to get into all of that. What happened to all of the health class warnings of "it only takes once" ?! According to these women, it just takes "once" if you have properly charted days, temperatures, symptoms, etc. etc. It is a science. These women should have their PHd's.

So, I have refused to resort to their charting and foreign language. I know that I am on a slippery slope, and if I step just a little more into their world, I will be charting at lunch and taking my temperature on the way to work. Let's just hope that 2 years from now I am not still writing about this. That just seems like a long time to be obsessed about something. That's why they say you should plan your wedding in less than a year -- it just sucks up every second. I don't want to be one of "those" ladies.

Life is so funny sometimes. One moment you are in your college dorm, sitting on a beanbag, wondering what excuse you are going to give your Statistics professor to get out of class. The next thing you know, you are wondering if the artificial sweetener in your Diet Snapple is going to give your future baby birth defects. O-blah-di, O-blah-dah.