Quivering Ovaries?

Not this girl.

 

Last week I got to hold a coworker's new baby for a long while. Normally, this would make my ovary (yes, just the one) hurt.  This time, all it did was make my pits sweat.  She (the baby) was wonderful and cute and sweet (and warm), but I didn’t feel that normal longing ache that I usually get. So maybe this is it-the end of baby-making.  If it is, my psychiatrist will be happy to hear it.  Although, if there are no more kids, it may mean less visits and consequently, less money for him J

 

For me, 35 is the cut-off age.  I already feel older than I am, so if I wait any longer I think it would spell doom. Besides, I am blessed with two healthy girls. Why tempt fate?  Just like I wasn’t definitive about coming back to blogging, though, I won’t be definitive about this.  According to my calendar, I have until December to get prego and deliver before I turn 36.  I’ll keep you posted.

 

Happy Mardi Gras!