I’m starving, but feeling a little barfy. I’m tired enough to nap despite the fact that I slept for eight solid hours last night and then took an hour long nap this morning. I cried while watching an Access Hollywood special on Elizabeth Taylor. I can’t stop craving orange juice. I want these things to mean that I’m pregnant, not that I’m a chubby chic with PMS. Depending on which pregnancy book you’re reading (and I’ve read at least 10 in the last month) only 20-35% of couples get knocked up in the first month of trying. So I guess the odds are not in our favor, but Jason is convinced nonetheless. He claims to just know. Am I acting different? Do I look different? How do you know? Apparently he has a lot of faith in those super swimmers.