Putting egg whites where the sun don't shine

Also, the carton bears the seal of the American Heart Association. Although somewhat disappointed that the package mentions nothing about the usability of pasteurized egg whites for procreative sex, I decide the American Heart Association seal is the clincher, and throw it in my basket.

In the checkout line, I remind myself that there's virtually no way the clerk could put together what I'm going to do with a medicine dropper and egg whites. She's probably not even paying attention, right? I have a flashback of buying condoms in college -- the surge of adrenaline that is both pride in and embarrassment at my own sexuality.

At home, I take an ovulation predictor test to make sure tonight's the night. I love these tests because there's at least a chance that I'll see two lines. Sure enough, Operation Egg White is good to go.

As I write, I'm waiting for the egg whites to get to room temperature. I poured out a few tablespoons from the carton, and put the rest in the fridge (waste not, want not). The crucial dollop is currently downstairs on my kitchen counter, in a Pyrex dish, covered with Saran Wrap. My plan is to fill the medicine dropper before things get started, so I can whip it out at just the right moment, if there is a right moment for egg whites during sex.

I am absolutely certain that the only way to get through infertility is by being able to laugh about it once in a while. I am constantly plagued by clueless people who say, "If you'd just relax, you'd get pregnant," "Stop thinking about it, and it will happen," or, worse, "Well, really, you're lucky ... I'm just fertile Myrtle: If my husband LOOKS at me, I get pregnant!"

I take my temperature every single morning, I take at least one pill a day to regulate my hormones and I've already been through more than one humiliating and uncomfortable test. But even though we've been trying for almost a year, I'm still just a beginner at infertility. I'm several months and a half dozen tests away from anything as expensive or as invasive as in vitro fertilization or injectables.

So I'm trying to look at this egg white thing as fun, an adventure (it's very "9 1/2 Weeks," don't you think?), an opportunity to make it interesting. Besides, having a plan, however ridiculous, takes some of the pressure off thinking about the next step, and it feels like a good omen -- after all, egg whites represent fertility. Or is that egg yolks?

Whatever. It will be a damn good story for the grandkids.

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