When I typed my blog’s URL in my browser, it wasn’t the first link to auto-complete. That’s how long it’s been.
And I’m ok with that. These last few months have been pretty exhausting, and pretty awesome too. Bunny’s growing. Work is great. Shmerson and I are great.
And now I’m here.
I was going to end the post with “Anyone wanna guess why?”
But that was for the one hot minute that I forgot who my audience is.
No, I’m not pregnant.
But as of a couple of weeks ago – we’ve officially stopped preventing. I’m not saying we’re trying. I’m not going down that rabbit hole. We’re not trying.
We’re just not preventing.
I’ve somehow gained 5 pounds in the last two weeks. I haven’t gained an ounce in over a year.
Now everyone is updated. Which gives me the permission to come back here and spill my guts as-needed. If needed. Who knows.
But in the name of all that is holy/spaghetti-related, if I start peeing on sticks I officially give you all permission to troll me, or even better – fly over to Tel Aviv and throw stuff at me.
Because I refuse to do that to myself, my marriage, or my daughter. We are going to do this like any normal stupidly lucky super-fertile couple would do it. Which is irresponsibly and ignorantly. Otherwise I will most likely lose my shit. And I’ve got too much stuff to get done to lose my shit. So I refuse to lose my shit.
I hereby solemnly swear that there will be no temping. No ovulation sticks. No cycle day counting. NONE! NONE I TELL YOU!
(Now all I have to do is stick to that. Wish me luck. Here goes nothing.)