But it's done. i've been triggered, and somewhere down there, my ovaries are grooving, shaking their thing and getting ready to expel those damned follicles that could contain perfect eggs or real duds.
And now my loving husband, after having inflict pain on me so joyfully gets to pleasure himself in one of the few things he has to do for the entire cycle. He gets to purge himself of all those little swimmers so he has nice fresh, energetic ones for collection. (I've tried to get him to guest blog about the details of his part in all of this but not sure if he will) So not right. Not right at all.
He told me tonight a little bit about the room he gets to go to in order to give his specimen. While i've had holes drilled into me, sedated and left to sit on my own, bleeding, hurting and if i'm lucky, about to vomit, he gets a nice room full of fun things to look at, only one act to perform which, for a guy shouldn't every be difficult (was gonna use the word "hard", but realised, not appropriate...)... AND get this... a fridge full of beer, wine and soft drinks.
What the fuck...
I am lucky if i even get a lukewarm cup of tea, some panadol and crusty bickies to nibble on.
Anyways, I'm back in Hornsby tonight and it just does not have the same vibe as the city. It is quiet. There is nothing around. It is boring. It is cold and miserable. But it's only one night then i'm back in the city for two nights. I demanded a two night stay, being the princess that i am, and also so that i can recover in luxury, free from housekeeping, socializing or people of any kind wanting to hug me, shed tears or make comments about how we could have a baby 9 months from now. I want to be on my own and i want to do it in style. Hell, if HE gets a fridge full of beer for his work, i at least deserve that much!
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