Finally!

An "H" Henry can be proud of!

"H" is for Holy Crap! Part Two

Tonight after dinner Henry picked up the Magna Doodle and started shrieking, "Make H!" He was getting really frustrated so I sat on the floor and drew an "H" for him, telling him to make two lines next to each other and one crossing between them.

I guess he just needed a refresher (we haven't drawn any letters all day), because he immediately proceeded to draw this:


I'm afraid my son has inherited my perfectionist tendencies, though, because he said, "NO! Doan yike dis. 'Rase it!" I had to take this picture under protest.

Because, you know, it would be really embarrassing for him if I trot the photo out during his Nobel Prize acceptance speech in thirty years. My God, those lines aren't even perfectly straight!

"H" is for Holy Crap!

Yesterday Henry drew the letter H.

I don't have a photo of it because he did it on his Magna Doodle and he erased it right away.

But I was writing out the names of family members for him and then he took the drawing pad and started to draw a line. I said, "What are you making, Henry?" and he said, "H."

Sure enough, he drew a second line parallel to the first and then another line intersecting them.

He's just over twenty-five months old. Is this normal?

Now We Know

Last year my husband and I started talking about using our last remaining frozen embryo. When we did the IVF cycle almost three years ago, we had three viable embryos after genetic testing screened out those that were incompatible with life.

Two of them were transferred to my uterus (one became Henry, though we don't know which one)


and the third one was frozen.

It bothered me that something that could turn into a person the way Henry did was sitting frozen in a lab across town. But more than that, we were enjoying Henry so much that we decided we wanted to add to our family.

So on September 4th, after a few weeks of prepping my body with estrogen pills and shots of progesterone, our reproductive endocrinologist transferred the thawed embryo into my uterus. The blood test to determine whether or not I was pregnant was yesterday.

It didn't work.

We're pretty disappointed, naturally. But I was grateful that the embryo thawed out fine (this is not always the case) and, as a friend put it, we were able to bring it home.

And How Was Your Day?

I knew that when I became a mother any sense of modesty I had enjoyed up until then would disappear. I just had no idea how far the other way the pendulum would swing.

Today I went number two with a small human draped across my lap, pressing down on my legs to "help get the poopies out." This was followed by a discussion of how no, the poop does not come out of the vagina; it comes out of the anus.

Followed by a listing of every family member and how they all poop out of their anuses too.