SCENE: Late last night, right after we'd discovered I'd left the sheets in the dryer and we would have to come up with the energy to make our bed. This seemed like the perfect time to continue our deep discussion about life.
BONNIE: You know, I know He's God and everything, but couldn't He have come up with a better way to have children?
DAVID (looking confused): What do you mean?
BONNIE: Well, really, there is just no pleasant way to have a baby.
DAVID: What are you talking about? What better way could there possibly be?
This is where we realized I was talking about childbirth and he was talking about conception. Then we both laughed ourselves silly. I found it all pleasantly ironic, considering the conception of our children had less to do with romance and more to do with a concerned-looking man in a lab coat who said things like, "You'll need to stab this forty-inch needle into the upper outside quadrant of your wife's behind every day for 10 weeks, 'kay?" Only he didn't say, 'kay' because doing so would have meant he'd have to start chewing gum and signing his name with hearts over the i's.
And then this morning I found this picture at the bottom of my jewelry drawer:
Isn't it cute? This is Matthew and Leah before they discovered the flour bin. Look how low maintenance they are!
And besides the fact that I have a picture of my kids as embryos (my kids are sooo much cooler than your kids...) the great thing about having been through fertility treatments is that the sex talk is going to be so much easier.
MICHAEL: Mom, how are babies made?
ME: Well, when Mom and Dad want to have a baby they go to the doctor and he gives them a huge box of needles...
(this isn't even all of them)
MICHAEL: Ewww! Dad has to give you shots in your bum?
ME: Well, dear, you'll understand it better when you're older.
Piece o' cake!
And they say this parenting thing is hard.