I had a great doctor's visit today. It looks like the potpourri of drugs have been doing exactly what they're supposed to. My womb is a friendly, happy place, with one healthy little egg on its way to maturity.
What does this all mean? I won't be getting the twins I was hoping for, at least not on this round. On the other hand, I won't have to contemplate selling my octuplets to a zookeeper.
But, if all continues to go well, I just might get my coveted clump of undifferentiated Sam-and-Monica cells this weekend.
Since I have a one-track mind, here are some entertaining bits of reproduction-related trivia for you:
June 29, 2006
June 25, 2006
Preconceived Notions
Blame it on the hormones.
On Tuesday, I started taking Drug #2 in my multi-phase pharmacopia of baby-producing wonder pills.
By this time next week, I just might have a zygote in my possession.
Or maybe not.
Everything around me has taken on a new level of significance.
Friday evening, I was driving in my car between sprinklings of rain. The sunset had caught the storm clouds, turning the sky bright yellow. Every tree and blade of grass looked greener than green. I rolled down my window; the air smelled like new life. I turned up the radio and sang along. Just over the valley, I spotted the biggest, brightest rainbow I had ever seen in Nevada.
On Tuesday, I started taking Drug #2 in my multi-phase pharmacopia of baby-producing wonder pills.
By this time next week, I just might have a zygote in my possession.
Or maybe not.
Everything around me has taken on a new level of significance.
Friday evening, I was driving in my car between sprinklings of rain. The sunset had caught the storm clouds, turning the sky bright yellow. Every tree and blade of grass looked greener than green. I rolled down my window; the air smelled like new life. I turned up the radio and sang along. Just over the valley, I spotted the biggest, brightest rainbow I had ever seen in Nevada.
June 14, 2006
The One-Minute "Who Moved My Parachute?" - A blog about management
In one of my future hypothetical realities, I write business books. Not technical trade manuals, but books about management. Books that help people motivate their employees.
This genre is rife with wretched writing. (Has anyone actually read Who Moved My Cheese? That's 20 minutes of my life I'm never getting back!) Some are so abstract that they're impossible to follow. Others crash down the slippery slope into self-help melodrama.
When my insightful, funny, highly readable business books hit the market, the joyless middle managers won't know what hit 'em. At business conferences, I'll be more popular than PowerPoint. I'll be the toast of the BlackBerry set. Quotations from me will be thumbtacked onto cubicle walls everywhere.
Hey, it's my daydream.
This genre is rife with wretched writing. (Has anyone actually read Who Moved My Cheese? That's 20 minutes of my life I'm never getting back!) Some are so abstract that they're impossible to follow. Others crash down the slippery slope into self-help melodrama.
When my insightful, funny, highly readable business books hit the market, the joyless middle managers won't know what hit 'em. At business conferences, I'll be more popular than PowerPoint. I'll be the toast of the BlackBerry set. Quotations from me will be thumbtacked onto cubicle walls everywhere.
Hey, it's my daydream.
June 12, 2006
The troubled teens make it look so easy.
Around this time last year, Sam and I first agreed that we might possibly be almost kind of ready (more or less) to bring a new human being into the world.
On paper, we seemed like the sort of people who could be reasonably successful at raising a child. Stable employment. A happy marriage of several years. A house large enough to share.
We ditched the birth control and decided to let nature take its course.
"We're not exactly trying," we would tell people. "We're just not not trying."
We reviewed the checklist of things we wanted to do before becoming parents. I finished my master's degree. We took an alcohol-soaked tour of Western Europe with our friends. I bought a car with four doors. I quit smoking. I practiced ordering Diet Coke at bars while my friends drank beer.
On paper, we seemed like the sort of people who could be reasonably successful at raising a child. Stable employment. A happy marriage of several years. A house large enough to share.
We ditched the birth control and decided to let nature take its course.
"We're not exactly trying," we would tell people. "We're just not not trying."
We reviewed the checklist of things we wanted to do before becoming parents. I finished my master's degree. We took an alcohol-soaked tour of Western Europe with our friends. I bought a car with four doors. I quit smoking. I practiced ordering Diet Coke at bars while my friends drank beer.
June 7, 2006
The Friendliest Blog on the Loneliest Road in America
Last week, my friends Adam and Bree got married.
Here is a picture of the newlyweds sitting on a train in Ely, Nevada.
The wedding took place the day before the train ride.
It also occurred in Ely, Nevada.
We did not travel there by train.
Here is a picture of the newlyweds sitting on a train in Ely, Nevada.
The wedding took place the day before the train ride.
It also occurred in Ely, Nevada.
We did not travel there by train.
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