Embryos Aren't Like Kittens

When you've never had a baby, your expectations of what it's like to conceive one are sort of romanticized. You imagine it happening naturally with someone you love at the right time in the perfect way. All of this has been framed by "The K-I-S-S-I-N-G Song" that you sang on the playground as a kid.

Love + Marriage = Baby in the Baby Carriage.

I never would have imagined that my song would go like this...

Love... ... ... ? ... ... ?? ... ... ... ?!?!! + Cancer = Produce Your Stuff. Fertilize It. Freeze Your Embryos.

I guess we've never really been conventional.

Cancer, or any terrifying illness, has the power to reveal people for who they truly are. Cancer removes pleasantries, barriers, costumes, and fallacies. All that remains is the person and their true character. Some people run away and other people reveal that they possess a deep well of heroism, compassion, and love. The latter is true for Brian.

As much as we loved each other before all of this, braving this war together has really cemented what we are. Now we're making frozen babies together. Brian has (romantically) administered my hormone injections each morning and opened my pill bottles for me. I have many eggs developing, which he attributes to his excellent injection skills.

Aside from the bloated ovaries, constant discomfort, and mood swings that come from so many growing eggs, there is one more bothersome facet to this gem of a situation. I can't help but want to keep all of the embryos! Babies are like kittens; so cute and squishy and it's hard to just have one when you have an entire litter at your disposal. Plus all of these are our cute little kittens. Good thing using the embryos isn't easy or cheap.