Happy Conception Day (Belated)

I know this is a little weird, but I don't really care, because there's a part of me that thinks it's pretty cool. Two days ago, January 7th, exactly one year was that happy merry conception day of our little guy. I pretty much think that's important, which is obvious to you, because I'm speaking of it here. In a public forum.

I know it was the Day of Conception because it took us awhile to get pregnant, so I got a little crazy (by crazy, I mean efficient) with all the pre-pregnancy ttc (trying to conceive) stuff. I got some sticks of ovulation predictors to track my cycle and checked gross things like cervical mucus and in the end, I even started charting my basal body temperature. If you weren't sure what that was, which I hope you never do, but your BBT is the temperature your body clocks in at right when you wake up, before even venturing to the kitchen for coffee.

I know this all sounds pretty crazy, but I don't like to mess around and just go with the flow when I want something, especially if the 30th birthday has passed and it's taking awhile for the petri dish of your ovaries to figure out you need to see some results. And SO, I got a little scientific and we had sex on demand. Which people say is SOOOO not sexy, and I have to admit, it does knock out the spontaneity of it all, but sex is sex and sex is sexy and if you have a husband who loves you and doesn't whine and complain about the details of how he comes to bed you, then you can rest assured I thought each time was beautiful because you're thinking about making A BABY. And that's hot.

Irregardless of all this, it didn't matter anyway because on this particular month I had it ALL WRONG.

It came to be that on January 7th, which is in fact my father's birthday, which could be a little weird for him to know that, so I haven't told him and I'm pretty sure he doesn't read this, so it's safe to say here. On my Dad's birthday, January 7th 2010, Dave and I had a rare date. I say rare because he works late mostly and we don't typically cut out time for elaborate dinners at nice restaurants with our hair brushed and lip gloss glossed.

But on this particular date, it happened to be that it was ALSO our friend's birthday, January 7th, and we were going to take him out proper-like. So there we were all ready and primmed and then our friend called and canceled.

So there we were. We looked at each other. And proceeded to the restaurant together, just the two of us, as planned. And the whole night, I didn't think at all about babies or making them because I didn't think I was anywhere near the dates or times necessary to conceive one.

SO, we went to one of our favorite restaurants where there's this lovely garden you walk through, over these cool mini wooden bridges over these trickling little koi ponds. We were seated in a booth, which is my favorite, and I thought the light was yellow and perfect and dim and nothing about the atmosphere offended me. We ate our favorite things like Black Garlic Fondue and their special Gourmet Mac-n-Cheese and we ordered a few of their specialty brews. They make them right there and they are some of the best beers in town and we love to find our favorites.

The night was long and leisurely and we talked about the coolest things like our dreams for life and for each other and why we were so happy and why we loved the other. We giggled and my cheeks got a little hot from the beer and when we left we held hands through the garden.

And then we went home, and not thinking about babies, we made love. And I won't go into it too much because let's face it, I've already crossed the line of TMI, and my mother-in-law maybe reads this and I don't want to freak her out. But it was one of those real pretty times, and then we fell asleep, warm and languid-like, forgetting to set our alarms.

And in the morning I took my temperature, because I was doing that every morning, and I got quite the surprise. My temperature had dropped significantly from the day before, which basically indicates that ovulation has happened, just the day before. And I didn't expect that at all because I thought I had several days more to go before I ovulated, so much so that I hadn't even started using my O-predictor sticks. But there it was anyway, the reading, and it said our trying time this month was over. And then I thought to our night before and we hadn't done it for a week before that, and

Then I Knew.

Conception day is special in my heart because it's the day that a miracle happened. The day where all the little Zoeys, Adeles, Hanks, and Owens flew out of the starting gate and ran. It's the day where Dax elbowed past them and went faster than everybody and didn't care that the rest were going to die because He Wanted to Live. And then he made it. Cucooned and tired, he slept and grew and slept and grew until He Came to Be.

I love that day. It ranks up there with weddings and birthdays and first kisses.

But the cool thing is...theoretically, he's been living for a year and I think that deserves a Happy Conception Day (Belated)!