I slept through most of Mother's Day

My family isn't as close-knit as it used to be, but we do make an effort to get together on the major --and minor-- holidays. Since the main branches of the family are all here in the same town, it's rather easy. This year's Mother Day dinner was being held at cousin "Lisa's" house.

I was feeling like warmed-over ass that day, nauseous and tired from my trigger shot, so my mom volunteered to play chauffeur. It's only about a 15 minute drive to Lisa's house, and I fell deeply asleep in the car. We arrived, my mom poked me to rouse me, and I staggered just barely awake into the house and started on the greeting rounds. All of the women were in the kitchen (as usual), while all the men were either watching golf/football/whatever sport is on TV or shooting pool (as usual). Everything was normal and okay for all of about 10 minutes... then Lisa's sister, my cousin "Helen" spoke up.

Helen, who was busy putting roasted chickens on a serving platter, informed me laughingly that I should be helping with the food. I was completely taken by surprise, since all my offers to help over the years have been politely, but firmly, turned down. "Uhhh," I said intelligently, "I always offer, but end up watching golf. But sure, I can help."

"Well, today is Mother's Day, so all of the non-mothers are going to get everything together and serve the mothers," Helen chirped gaily.

I'd been fine all day, I swear. I hadn't had a single moment of self-pity or angst, nada. And one little sentence, one remark, blew through my cool. I walked over to the sink to wash my hands, and muttered to the third sister (my favorite), "It's not my fault that I'm not a mother, it's my uncooperative reproductive organs. And if everyone else is supposed to serve the mothers, then why aren't any of the men in here helping?"

Sister #3, Stella, quickly agreed with me and called on the testosterone posse to come help, so I felt slightly vindicated. I mean, getting the men in my family to help with dinner is an accomplishment as worthy as discovering penicillin. But as great as that felt, it didn't make up for the moment of anger and pain when it was implied that I was nothing more than Cinderella (pre-Bibbity Boppity Boo) because I don't have children.

The anger didn't last too long, though, because after I ate, I promptly found a love seat and passed out for about 3 hours until it was time to go home. The spiteful part of me hopes that they all thought I was really ill, and that they might get sick because I was handling food.

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Today I am about 5 dpo. I have no idea if my trigger is out of my urine yet; I tested positive with a hpt 2 days past trigger (four days ago) but haven't tested since. Nothing to report other than cramps and broccoli-induced gas. I'm honestly not holding out much hope for this cycle, as my one follicle was on my "possibly partially blocked tube" side, the left side.

Of course, I'd be a liar if I said that that wasn't a worry factor. What if the egg fertilizes, and then gets stuck in my tube? Yep, I'm not so much stressing out over the TWW, as I am the possibility of a tubal pregnancy. Hey, I gotta have something to obsess about!