Despite discovering that the IUI cycle was going to be a wash, the doc who performed my ultrasound recommended giving myself the HCG injection to induce ovulation and simply try to the old fashioned way.

I’m pretty sure I gave him a blank stare.

Then I said, “but I’m going to ovulate on the blocked side” (um, duh)

Apparently, it is possible (somehow) for the egg on my right ovary to make its way over to the left side (how this happens, I have NO idea). So hubby and I carried out our duty for humanity while he was home this weekend so we could have a snowballs chance in hell of getting pregnant.

I figure that it seems safe to say that the chances of me getting pregnant this cycle are roughly the same as winning the Mega Million Lottery. The odds of winning the Mega Million Lottery are 1 in 176 million. So just for fun, lets see some of the things that I have better odds of experiencing than a pregnancy this cycle: (info credit 1) (info credit 2)

1. Death by Vending Machine – as in the vending machine crushing me. You bet I’ll be eye balling the next vending machine I walk by, challenging its ulterior motive. (seal my Doritos and DIE woman!)

(image credit)

2. Dying in an airline related terrorist attack. Anyone up for a trip to Hawaii?

3. Having identical quadruplets – yeah.

4. Becoming president – I wonder if this changes if it were to be becoming the first woman president.

5. Dying from being left handed – watch out, dad.

6. Becoming a movie star – American Idol, here I come!!!

7. Death by flesh eating bacteria – maybe I should stop with the Zombie Chases.

(image credit)

8. Dying in an asteroid apocalypse – I’m just looking for……..stars….

9. Death by legal execution – yes, really.

And my personal favorite:

10. Death by ignition or  melting of “nightwear” (read, underwear) (info credit)

So basically, I bet I have a better chance of dying from flaming underwear while I happen to be infected with a flesh eating bacteria while on my runaway “avoiding legal execution” excursion to Hollywood to begin my singing career that just happens to have a terrorist on board than I do at becoming pregnant this cycle. And if I happen to make it off the plane and haven’t yet died from my flaming undergarments or flesh eating bacteria, then the M and M’s I decide to get at the airport will certainly be the death of me, as the vending machine takes a nose dive and crushes my skull.


(Now, who’s lining up for a lottery ticket?)

(image credit written in image)