Breakfast: the most important meal of the day

After last month's ovulation fiasco, I was curious to see whether I'd ovulate on time. In unmedicated cycles you could set your watch by my ovaries — at the tone, the time will be half past rupture — but I don't know what my body does the month after an ovarian onslaught, so I've been monitoring my fertility signals closely.

Today is cycle day 14. Right around this time, most women produce a slippery tide of what's evocatively called egg white cervical mucus, copious, clear, and stretchy. I, alas, do not, or at least not noticeably. The only times I have were when my estrogen level was artificially inflated, and then I made enough to feed hundreds of hungry brunchers.

Not having this helpful lubricant at my disposal puts me at yet another fertility disadvantage. But I am not discouraged, for some preliminary research tells me that I could turn to a natural solution to make my cervix more hospitable to sperm.

I am disinclined to try this because it sounds like a gilt-edged invitation to a raging pelvic infection. I don't think there's any such thing as fertile-quality pus, so I'm thinking I'll give this a pass. But as long as I'm truly taking charge of my fertility, I've come up with a few other items I might profitably engulf:

• an astrolabe to improve navigation conditions;
• a heat source to create optimal incubation conditions; and
• perhaps even some nice furniture to make the place a little more homey.

Look, these ideas are no more far-fetched than the prospect of shoving breakfast up my coochie. Side of toast? Bacon? How many bowls would you have to eat to equal the fertility potential in one bowl of Total?

Give it to Mikey! He'll eat anything. He likes it! Hey, Mikey!

Posted by Julie at 10:16:00 AM in I am full of good ideas

Comments

Breakfast: the most important meal of the day

After last month's ovulation fiasco, I was curious to see whether I'd ovulate on time. In unmedicated cycles you could set your watch by my ovaries — at the tone, the time will be half past rupture — but I don't know what my body does the month after an ovarian onslaught, so I've been monitoring my fertility signals closely.

Today is cycle day 14. Right around this time, most women produce a slippery tide of what's evocatively called egg white cervical mucus, copious, clear, and stretchy. I, alas, do not, or at least not noticeably. The only times I have were when my estrogen level was artificially inflated, and then I made enough to feed hundreds of hungry brunchers.

Not having this helpful lubricant at my disposal puts me at yet another fertility disadvantage. But I am not discouraged, for some preliminary research tells me that I could turn to a natural solution to make my cervix more hospitable to sperm.

I am disinclined to try this because it sounds like a gilt-edged invitation to a raging pelvic infection. I don't think there's any such thing as fertile-quality pus, so I'm thinking I'll give this a pass. But as long as I'm truly taking charge of my fertility, I've come up with a few other items I might profitably engulf:

• an astrolabe to improve navigation conditions;
• a heat source to create optimal incubation conditions; and
• perhaps even some nice furniture to make the place a little more homey.

Look, these ideas are no more far-fetched than the prospect of shoving breakfast up my coochie. Side of toast? Bacon? How many bowls would you have to eat to equal the fertility potential in one bowl of Total?

Give it to Mikey! He'll eat anything. He likes it! Hey, Mikey!