After 3 months of indulging my every anxiety, it seems someone is losing his patience.

After 3 months of indulging my every anxiety, it seems someone is losing his patience.

A friend read my post about being a Factor 11 Deficiency carrier. Turns out she is also a carrier, and so reached out to reassure me:

Our first OB appointment was at 8 weeks (Jan 16th), and it is an understatement to say we went in pretty clueless.
When the doctor approached me with a HUGE dildo-looking instrument to perform the transvaginal (re: up-the-hooha) ultrasound, we did not realize that was a thing (doctor-dildos OR transvaginal ultrasounds). Movies always show the ultrasound with goo on the belly, and it’s safe to say that everything we know about the medical side of pregnancy comes from movies. (But like, well-researched movies such as Knocked Up.)
When the doctor asked me to scoot down and spread my legs wide, Eric, who had been standing near my belly, quickly scurried toward the safety of my head like a frightened crab.

Everything in that gif is on point because I swear the sonogram tool was the size of that truck (and from what I hear, my vagina, at the end of all this, will resemble that tire).
Me: “I just have one request– please please only find ONE baby in there.”
Eric: “And I’ll take a Bitcoin if you see one!”
Doctor: 
So yeah our doctor hates us.
Steph went to retrieve my nephew after his nap, and encountered him with poop all over his hands. Seems he woke up early, got bored, and found a way to entertain himself.
Kid is nothing if not resourceful.
(After Steph sends photo….)




That moment when your husband catches you on your iPhone calendar calculating the best time to get pregnant so that you won’t miss the annual free, 2-week beach vacation with your mom and dad in August.

So yeah we gotta wait a couple months.
Dad: “You can’t post things that are going to make me worry.”

(Related to Family Planning )
Eric just learned that his company offers paid paternity leave. This, naturally, lead to a serious, contemplative discussion about parenthood.
(No, I’m not pregnant).


We’re obviously kidding, relax.
They’ll be a soccer team.
I hate football.

Client, Age 3 (Yes. Three.), during a “greater than/less than” math lesson….
Kid: “You’re 35?!?! My mom is 31, and that is LESS THAN 35!”
Me: “Right!”
Kid: “But she has THREE kids and you have ZERO kids and zero is LESS THAN three! Zero is NOTHING!”
Me: “Well…”
Kid: “You have NOTHING!”

