My Little Mr New Years; or, Ovulation Goes to Your Head

I want that New Year's baby. You know the one--chubby and dimpled with his ridiculous top hat and 2010 sash? Yeah, that one. He's mine. I want to hold him in my arms in late September and think about the winter snow that swirled the night he was conceived.

We're full throttle with the baby making right now. I didn't ovulate after all over Christmas (when I had my WTF-egg-whites freak out), which is good because that means that this is a normal cycle and my body is doing its job: Day 20, egg whites, four High Fertility readings on the CBEFM, and a girly hard on for my husband like you wouldn't believe.

I'm still waiting for that Peak reading, but I've had zero midcycle spotting-- for the first time in two years. We're talking mid-cycle "spotting" that required a full pad, could last as long as 10 days, and sometimes bled through to my clothes. And now--zero!

I'm unable to shake my hopeful assumption that this is the month. That this time it will work out. That this is our baby.

Maybe I don't want to shake it. Maybe after 10 months of near constant anxiety, I'm ready to just be happy and hopeful. Somehow losing my m&m has me convinced more than ever that this is going to work out for us, and sooner rather than later.

So call me a dumb blonde, but I'm going to ride this optimism thing until it pans out for me.