Time for a talk with my eggs...

I’m flying back home to Massachusetts tomorrow morning for my sister’s wedding, but not before doing a stop off in Boston to visit with the first of my high school friends to spawn.

There is much anticipation behind meeting the new baby. I’m curious if seeing him will stir up something inside me. As far as I know, my uterus has zero interest in housing something for 9 months. I do not have the desire to hold, feed, change, dress, or play with a baby full time. Nor pack lunches for a kid, watch his soccer games, cart her around town, or pay for someone else’s college education. But then again… they CREATED this human. I mean how freakin’ cool is that? A new little person with both of their features; it’s amazing.

Although now that I think about it, all they really did is what I do a lot. I just take every precaution short of wrapping both our junk in cling wrap to be sure I do not procreate.

I was in Toys R Us a few weeks ago for someone else’s baby shower and the place made me want to sew my vagina shut. I was just short of a panic attack in there. Row after row after row of all this stuff, most of which I have no idea how to work, or what it’s for. Everybody pushing either a stroller or a cart and the walls were closing in on me big time.

If holding the baby and seeing my friend in all her glory jolts my womb into mommy- mode, I have got some serious accomplishments that need to take place pronto. Finding a rich sperm donor to take me in is no easy feat.

Now, I am kind of nervous I’ll have a nightmare tonight about kidnapping him, doing so by shoving him up my vajay.

God help me.