After all these months of trying to get pregnant, arriving at this point
where we're taking some time off is easier than I would've thought.
It's just nice to focus on Val, to even focus on each other for a
while. Like we're taking a step back and looking at all the things that
combine to make us want another child. Eventually. Maybe long after
this crazyass bloating, a gift from Cl.omid, goes away and my normal bra
size returns for a while.

Though today I had a real party bra shopping with Val.
Val: those are yours boobies!
Me: yes, they are. (Tries to turn away but with the mirror and the
stroller, I was doomed. And desperate for new bras since suddenly my
old ones were cutting off circulation. I suspect this is due in part to
the extra hormones that I've been subjected to the last few months.)
Val: you made milk from yours boobies. For me!
Me: (ignoring the woman in the next fitting room's chuckles) yes,
honey, I did.
Val: why?
Me: (please, child, do not get me started lest you feel guilty for all
that effort and though it was a hurculean effort I hope and pray she
never once feels guilty. That effort was my choice, and a fantastic one
at that.) Because it's healthier.

At this point, she went back to eating her churro and I was free to
resume the trying on of bras with toddler in tow.

Did you know that la.ne bry.ant sells bras with inflatable padding in
them? Does this store not know that it caters to full-figured ladies?

And speaking of that place, did you know that they really have fantastic
underwear? There's my assvice to you bigger-boned gals.

In fertility awareness news, I had a spectacular, rapid-fire meeting
with a co-worker yesterday, I got handed a rather large serving of
well-intended assvice/innapropriate comments that included this:

Co-worker: why do you want another kid anyway (CW has but one child
herself)
Me: (sighing and rolling my eyes on the inside) because there's an empty
chair at my table.
CW: then just take that chair away!
Me: (again with the sighing and rolling of eyes, this time out loud)
THAT WAS A METAPHOR!

Other suggestions were equally special. I'd list them all but
re-reading this would only irritate me. So instead, just close your
eyes and picture all (and I mean ALL) of the possible ways 2 women could
make a baby together. Then picture yourself coming up with all those
ways and suggesting them to a rather out lesbian who already has
(conceived and birthed) a child with her female partner. You might end
up looking a little silly, even if your intentions are good.

This particular person needs to know about our efforts because they've
taken me away from the office quite a bit and she's someone who needs to
keep track of my schedule to some degree. Were there any way to have
not shared this little nugget of information with her, I would've held
back.

But hey, maybe I just gave you three a list of what not to say. Like so
many situations, a simple 'I'm sorry to hear that, what can I do to
support you?' is, and remains, a perfectly fantastic answer.

This concludes today's installment of What's Wrong With My Junk?