Trying to have a baby is an emotion coaster. I never realized how lucky I was with Delilah — one cycle, one test, one healthy baby.

Fertility at 27 and fertility at 34 are entirely different animals. I’ve peed on 40 ovulation sticks and at least 12 pregnancy tests in the last four months alone. At this point if I’m not holding something in my urine stream, I feel like I’m going to the bathroom wrong.

So every month that I get a BFN (that’s a big fat negative for the uninitiated) I’m trying do something nice for myself that I couldn’t do if I was pregnant. Go out for margaritas. Spend a day huffing bleach to maintain the perfect platinum. Soak in a spa. And at least twice so far, get a tattoo.

Feed Me Seymour