Fundraiser-friend and Owns-Her-Own-Business-friend have recently joined me in the Waiting Room, having confirmed in the last week that they have started trying for a baby.  What a relief!  It was getting pretty lonely and boring in that room on my own; it’s not like there was anything else to do other than wait and bore my husband rigid with speculations about when my period might come.

Now I can sit with my friends, drinking instant coffee out of plastic cups and talking avidly about what happens during the fertile window which, to continue the waiting room analogy, opens up onto a vista of the pregnancy playground featuring swings and roundabouts and where our other pregnant friends (dressed in powder blue and canary yellow) gambol on the grass (much greener) saying things like “come join us, it’s fun out here” (in ghostly, weird pregnancy voices).

So yesterday I told my Fundraiser-friend and Owns-Her-Own-Business-friend that my fertile window had just closed for another month and that, once again, my Beloved Husband and I were beginning the agonising wait for the results of our hard work.

When I say “hard work” I mean sex every 36 hours which of course is always good and sometimes MIND BLOWING, especially when you’re having a conversation about the online shop because you failed to find the time to do that in the 36 hours that preceded it.  It’s particularly mind-blowing when you spend the half hour leading up to it saying things like this:

“It’s really late.  Why did you choose a film that went on so long?  Now we’re both really tired and actually I just want to sleep.”

“You want to sleep too, do you?  Well, I suppose the question is, what do you want more, sleep or a baby?  What do you want more, a refreshed head in the morning or a lifetime of unadulterated joy watching the thing you created grow up into a rounded and charismatic human being?”

“We’d better have sex, come on.”

“But now we’ve talked all the sex out of it so we can’t really.  Oh well, let’s go to sleep.  Maybe the fertile window closed already, let’s not worry.  Goodnight, sleep well.”

“Are you awake?  You are.  Come on, I’ve decided I want a baby more than I want sleep, if only so we never have to have this conversation again.”

“What?  You’re saying this is more of a monologue than a conversation?  What’s that supposed to mean?  I’m offended.  We definitely can’t have sex now.  Goodnight.”

“Ok, let’s do it quick.  Before I change my mind.”

Please, please let us be pregnant this month.