Trying to distract myself from a day shortened by Daylight Savings, I hit up my Amazon Recommendations-- a terrific time-killer, if you're looking for one. After six months of an attitude of "If I buy more, it will happen," I've encouraged Amazon's recommendations of fertility books, breast-feeding advice, specula both metal and plastic, fertility pee-sticks, and legal advice for gay folk. Today: fertile-mucus vitamins.
Right. So now fertile mucus isn't alarming and icky anymore, but an object of open, saleable ambition. Heather still doesn't like to talk about it-- I, in contrast, will reassure myself during speculum disasters by declaring, "Wow, but your mucus looks great!"-- and now we're supposed to be so deeply passionate about it that we're buying supplements to ensure its quality.
But I realize, with each absurd recommended item, that there could be a time when we're that stretched. Heather is confident of her natural fertility and I'm suckered in, so right now we're in a position of dismissing as extreme the supplements and fertility beads, but there's a reason those things are out there. They could look a lot less extreme after three inseminations without baby.
Would it make the blog more interesting?
Your Amazon recommendations are probably going to be ruined forever. What do fertility beads DO, anyway?
ReplyDeleteI think you count them. Or, anyhow, that's my guess. It just makes me think of rosaries, which have little place in the process.
ReplyDelete