Fuzzyheaded

Oh, gosh....I just don't even know how to begin.......Only a few times in my life has my head been swimming this much. My wedding felt like this, but it was only for one day. But, this whole thing has had me nearly-dizzy for days now. One minute, I'm having so much trouble just wrapping my mind around the truth of what's happening, and the next I'm freaking out about dumb shit like: Where, oh, where shall we move the litterbox, if the upstairs spare room is going to be the nursery now? I think the thing to do is open a blank Word document on my computer and just have a big random spew---write down anything that's bubbling around in my head to get it the frick out. Part of my freaking out involves the fact that I'm thinking of important things, and then freaking out that I'll forget the important thing. So, a big write-o-rama seems definitely due. I'm really hoping it will help clear my head so I can stop gazing off dead-faced into nothingness at work.

I did, indeed, have bloodwork done yesterday, but when I called my gyno's office today to get the results, they horrifically informed me that my doctor had the nerve to go and get the flu, and she is the only one who can interpret the test results. Can you imagine? In January? Apparently, she's so damn sick that she's cancelled all of her appointments until Tuesday. TUESDAY, PEOPLE! I was very distressed about this on the phone, and made some wheezy pouting noises before hanging up. I meditated on the news for a moment, and realized that, in light of this morning's positive pee stick, I now have a total of three positive tests. Is there REALLY any chance that all three of the tests are wrong? And, this morning's test nicely popped up noticeably quicker than yesterday's, and it also is happily darker. So, I have decided not to panic about the lack of beta results, as they would surely only echo the positive results I have already been getting. And, since I can't very well drive over to my gyno's home to ply her with tea and homebaked goodies (can I?), it's best to gulp down my disappointment and assume the best. So, in the spirit of wild assumptions, I'm assuming I'm actually pregnant, and not the victim of some crazy scheme involving pregnancy test companies and their multi-flawed designs.

In the spirit of said assumption, Jake and I are going to visit his parents tomorrow to break the happy news. And, I'll be calling my dad later tonight to tell him, then calling my mom in a few days when my brother can be there to keep her from completely flipping out. Then, Jake and I are going out to dinner Saturday night to celebrate at my favorite restaurant. I know that this is an uncertain road, and that such celebrations can seem premature and naive, but I'm going to enjoy this. Fear aside, cynicism aside, doubt aside---this has never happened in my entire life. I'm going to enjoy the moment, live in THIS moment, this wonderful, amazing, whizbang moment.

Jake is over the moon, to put it lightly. His utterances in the first few minutes consisted mostly of "Really? Really?" Then, there was this doozy: "Damn....I guess that doctor was right." YUP. I guess she was. He even said we should send the clinic a thank-you note to let them know how much appreciate them giving us a diagnosis. I'm not so sure I want to go that far, but the fact that he was finally acknowledging the connection between our infertility and his smoking habit made me feel quite satisfied.

In closing, for the benefit of all the Univ. of Googlers out there, just to clear up any doubts:

Can smoking cause infertility? YES!
Can nicotine damage sperm? YES!
My husband quit smoking, can we get pregnant? YES!