Worlds Collide: Photographic Proof!

What's a girl to do when her boss signs for her Fed Ex full of 2inch ass needles and other fertility-related drug paraphernalia?

Right.  Take pictures!

Now, since I'm such a positive person, I'm being totally optimistic about this whole FET thing even though the success rate is...well, not in my favor, or in anyone's favor really if you look at the numbers.  But I have a lovely vagina, a beautiful cervix, and a uterus that could kick that ass of your uterus any day (if your uterus had an ass).  So let's just assume that I'll fall in the 40% success rate, even though I have shitty luck and generally skew the numbers of suckage in everyone else's favor all of the time by taking one for the team in all horrible situations.

Basically?  This Fed Ex package?  Is my next baybee.  See me gaze lovingly at my next baybee:

Oh, what, Fed Ex Baybee, is you hungee?  Well, let me try to breast feed you!  Breast is best, after all, if you haven't heard.

Could I be any more of an obvious titty quitter?  Perhaps my nursing experience with Olivia was so piss poor because I was shoving her face into my side boob instead of my nipple?

Perhaps I will supplement with poison formula, as well.  I'm all out of bottles, so this kid will just have to choke it down out of a water bottle.

It is very important to burp your baybee.  Even if it isn't a Fed Ex Baybee.  But what's nice about a Fed Ex Baybee is that it can't vomit on your shoulder.  I mean, you still run the risk of being stabbed with a needle, but you will not smell like vomit so at the end of the day?  You win.  You just might be wearing a band-aid is all.

I would like to take the opportunity to point out that the Fed Ex Baybee is very happy, despite having two different sized ears and a pubic hair on its head.  What can I say?  I make happy baybees! 

(Also?  I did not pick out that picture on the office wall.  Just saying.)

We've all heard of the EASY method, right?  Eat, Activity, Sleep, You Time!  Now that the Fed Ex baybee has a nice full belly, it's time to play!  Goochie Goochie Goo, Fed Ex Baybee!

And now it's time for sleep.  For the baybee.  Not for me.  I should probably do some work.  But make sure you swaddle your baybee tight!  It's a girl, but only because I had a pink shirt in my gym bag.  But maybe we'll have another girl, and Mark will be destined to deal with PMS times three?  You have to admit, you're waiting anxiously for the blog fodder from that situation.

Big shout out to my coworker, Melissa.  She took the photos (she's my main photographer, remember this shot?) and is also forced to Deal With Me daily.  Last week, she broke her front tooth on an orange, and I offered to make her famous by posting a picture on my blog.  But she declined, not sure why.

--  <-----My segue, since I'm such an excellent writer.

And I can't go without saying Happy Mother's Day, to everyone who considers themselves to be a mom, and to everyone who wants to be a mom, and...ya know.  Mother's Day is hard for people, and so I think we should all just eat a big ass cookie and enjoy this Sunday.  Happy Cookie Sunday?  Does that work for everyone?

-- <-----And, again.  For Good Measure.

One Year Ago: Mother's Day and Other Such Nonsense
Two Years Ago: Jen's Top Ten List of Things That Suck