Ode to Infertility

‘Twas the night before your period and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even your spouse.
The tampons were waiting in the bathroom with care,
in hopes that Aunt Flow would soon NOT be there.
Your future children were nestled, like dreams in your head,
while visions of cramps start to come before bed.
You’re sure you are pregnant, your breasts are so ripe,
you examine that toilet paper each time you wipe.
But you just might be pregnant, you have all the signs,
so why does this test never show those two lines?
And you cry on the floor until you are ill,
tomorrow you’ll refuse to take your prenatal pill.
“Come nausea, sore breasts, and frequent urination!”
“On weight gain, fatigue and then to lactation!”
We are getting impatient, our clocks start to tick,
but each month all we do is pee on that stick.
We know more about ovulation than our family doc,
so please fill our womb before our friends newborns can talk!
We thank all of our relatives for those sympathy hugs,
but we’ve spent our whole salary on fertility drugs.
Our spouse has more sex than his full teenage years,
but this time he’s not bragging to all of his peers.
So before our next cycle, lead us the fertile way,
Happy baby-making to all and keep periods at bay!