Stop Oogling my Eggs!

Forgive me if I am wrong. But, I think that my eggs and all of the parts that go with them are my business. Makes it sound like I am selling them...

There is something odd that happens as soon as some women become mothers. They think that everyone wants to hear their birth stories and they have a deep-seated belief that there is anyone out there who really gives a flying monkey what day of their cycle they are on, the number of times they have tried to conceive, the positions that worked for them, and how much spotting they have had. It seems that, as soon as number one is out, they are working on number two. Ok... that makes me giggle like a Grade 2. Working on number two... tee hee.

And the worst part of this phenomenon is that they think that I want to join in the round table discussion about my reproductive trials and tribulations. Well, I don't. If I wanted someone else to know when I had my period, I would wear white pants. The only person who knows how many times we do it and in what position is my husband. And maybe the neigbor who shares a bedroom wall with us. And, the answer to the question, "when are you going to have another?", is, "when the memory of ripping skin is erased from my mind". Which reminds me, have I told you my birth story? No? Good.