Spit spot

You know, I blame H. He was the one who pointed out, repeatedly, that if my period started before the weekend it would mean Day Nine – or Scan Day! – would come to pass while we were still flailing about in the Lake District, and therefore, naturally, we would have a late scan, confirming only that I’d ovulated eighty-three times in Kumquat alone, and now we’d be having decaplets. Or that Satsuma had tripled in size, gone nova and was now referring to herself as ‘V-ger’ and glowing ethereally.

Then he bought tampons. In a ‘well, if I don’t, May’s period will start right away and there will be much wailing and scrubbing of gussets, but if I do, said period will stay away for another fortnight or two, and May will get wound up, but hey, we can relax on our holiday,’ way.

My uterus will not be out-psyched by a mere man, and took this all as a colossal dare.

Day two of spotting, just morphing into a little red flow. Day One tomorrow (see? now I’m trying to psych that damn uterus out). Day Nine, halfway up Scafell Pike. Ha ha ha ha ha.

If H attempts to avoid sex, based on ridiculous fantasies of high-order multiples, over this holiday, I will, I swear, tell him all about testicular sperm aspiration. With pictures. While holding a bread-knife and a drinking straw.

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6 responses to “Spit spot

  • a

    I think you should create a power point presentation on testicular sperm aspiration that you can pull out any time H is unruly. However, you might want to balance out your irritation with the fact that he actually goes out to buy you tampons.

    Have fun on your vacation!

  • g

    Ah well, they’re mostly twins, anyway with clomid, and I can tell that THAT is an absolute doddle.

    If you don’t care about ever showering again.

    g

  • Jane G

    That image has me wincing and crossing my legs!

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Decaplets sound cool. No worries. If 83 isn’t enough, I found some in-date Clomid knocking around in a drawer last week.

    I used to carry around a picture I cut out of the Nursing Times, or whatever, when I used to work for the glorious NHS. It was a photo of a vasectomy. The spermatic cord had been exteriorised from an – impressively small – incision, and the scissors were poised to snip. I found it highly effective in quelling unruly men, and was indeed the only PPE I took on a solo two-month US/Canadian backpacking trip. H must not underestimate the power of photos involving testes and medical equipment, at his absolute peril. The bread knife? Straw? Christ!

    Lancaster BMI are a private hospital and will probably have a peek if you explain, but they’d charge you a hundred quid or more and would likely require a note from Miss Consultant. So, shit idea all round really. Dunno why I said it.

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