Tuesday, June 24, 2008


I'm a wee bit hormonal.

Case in point: I called my husband on his way to work this morning, crying rather hysterically because he forgot to bring the laundry downstairs for me. Clearly, he forgot this extremely important task because he no longer loves me.

Perhaps you're wondering why I don't bring the damn laundry downstairs myself? Well normally I would, but it just so happens that being two days post egg retrieval (12 eggies!), my ovaries hurt.

Normally, I'm a delight to be married to. And for all of you who are jealous of my sweet husband, wishing that you were married to me, let me assure you that YOU DO NOT want to be married to me this week. Despite all of my beauty, charm, and wit, despite my fantastic cooking skills and domestic fortitude, I seem to be lacking in the sanity department.

I think that this is justified for a variety of reasons.

1. I have ten fertilized eggs sitting in a petri dish in Boston waiting for their mommy. My uterus is much more comfy than some sterile petri dish. Clearly, I'm suffering seperation anxiety.

2. My house absolutely has to be meticulously and spotlessly clean. And it's not. If I do not get it perfectly clean in the next few hours, my eggies might prefer to continue their petri dish inhabitation. And it's hard to clean, cause my ovaries hurt.

3. I am testing a not-yet-FDA approved form of Progesterone. Was this really a good idea? For the next 3-12 weeks, my woo-woo is home to what looks like a big, foamy life-saver. And last night it made me puke up popcorn. Have you ever puked up popcorn before? All those little kernally things get just as stuck on their way back up as they do on their way down. More so, even. I still have kernals in my nose. And I am NOT a puker. I'm the type of girl who will throw up in my mouth a little and then swallow it back down to avoid puking for real. So let me tell you I do not appreciate violently puking popcorn for close to 30 minutes. Plus, I don't think it's normal or healthy to puke blood.

4. I'm trying to make sure my uterus is prepped to be a good home to my eggies. And it's a lot of damn pressure.

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