day 54

I still haven't got my period, I'm sporting a set of knockers that would put Pamela Anderson to shame, and I'm terrifed that it's all because I'm pregnant.

We've had sex once in two months, and it was three days before a blood test confirmed I'd not ovulated yet. If I'm pregnant, the responsible sperm has got to be exceptionally tenacious, or my twat was particularly friendly on the day, because even if I'd ovulated that afternoon, while it can happen, at three to five days before ovulation, the probability of conception averages at around ten percent. Factoring in my blocked tube, the probability drops to negative forty percent chance. Yes, I know my maths is flawed, but I'm manipulating the law of averages because I need to calm the fuck down.

Eleven days ago, a second blood test showed I had ovulated-but when? It could have been anywhere from a week to a few hours before my blood was drawn, so really, I don't need to officially worry until at least Tuesday.

The home pregnancy test I'm looking at right now won't be used any time soon, because apparently I prefer worrying about the impossible to accepting about the inevitable.