For me.

I have put off a lot of things in the last year... vacations, new wardrobes, joining the gym, purchasing a new bike, participating in sports, commiting to traveling to events, etc. because I just *knew* that any second I was going to be pregnant and thus incapable of enjoying these things without some degree of guilt or danger.

Don't get me wrong, I would love to be 'with child' - but I also realize that in my quest to become 'knocked up' I've taken a hiatus from life. And what good has it done me? Well, thanks to an HSG and about a zillion doctor's appointments, I know that I have a nice cushy uterus and clear tubes (oh - the better to cradle you with my dear!). I know that I have enough life insurance to pay for my yet unconceived child's college education should I meet my demise in childbirth (oh - the better to educate you with my dear!). I know that I definitely have enough of the worry wart gene to be qualified to be a mom. (oh the better to drive you crazy with my dear!). The problem is - I'm driving ME crazy. O.k. maybe not crazy. No need to Baker Act me. Cross my heart... I promise.

But - I have decided to live for me - if even for a little bit. I've joined a gym. And yes, as much as the personal trainer mortified me by bellowing out my weight while simultaneously smirking, I still feel good. (needless to say - I did not hire this trainer after our *encounter*).