�I don�t know. I cut it out, and it�s still happening.�

�Well, what about stress?� she tried.

�I feel pretty under control.�

�Cold? Allergies? Husband tossing and turning?� she offered.

�No, no, no.� I replied. �I still have insomnia and that weird pain in my abdomen and neither of them has gone away.�

�Any ideas?�

�Well. One.� I paused.

She leaned forward. (We�re both nurses. We talk about things like vomit during lunchtime. We enjoy theories of illness. We have no shame when talking about bodily functions. You get the drift.)

�It�s not likely. It�s so not likely �� I started. �It�s just � I�ve had insomnia. And pain. And nausea, and some heartburn. Oh, and I�ve been unusually bitchy lately. Even Blue commented about it, and he normally just ignores that stuff.� I paused.

Kerry processed these facts.

�And there�s nothing else that leads me to believe it�s true � and the possibility is absolutely miniscule. Like, less than a tenth of a tenth of a half a percent.�

�Yeah, but knowing you �� she began.

�� and knowing my weirdo history of having to do everything the most medically complicated way possible �� I continued.

�The likelihood is low �� she followed.

�But there�s a chance � it would explain a lot � if I were ��

�PREGNANT?� we both said, laughing.

Yeah, right. Listen, I�m not worried about it. Except that you know what? It�s freaking possible. I have a tube. I have the potential to produce eggs on that side. And I�ll be durned, but I�ve had every weirdo complication in the book so far.

It�d be bad. Because I got the methotrexate shot a month ago. Two weeks before potential conception. Which is BAD NEWS for the potential embryo.

So the ironies of my life never cease. Because right now, I simply have to hope that I�m not pregnant.

Yeah. That thing we�ve been trying to do. That thing we�ve thrown countless thousands of dollars at. That elusive goal that makes us so distraught and sad.

I now, officially, have to hope it HASN�T happened.

*snort*

Knowing me, I�ve got twins in there.