My body is horrible at making babies. Like…horrible. I haven’t had a period without medical intervention since 2006 and even that was a random slip-up on the part of my stubborn ovaries…like when a kid forgets that he’s angry and accidentally smiles.
But with a combination of divine miracles and a suitcase full of fertility drugs, three children have been born from this broken body. And once those babies are out, my body rallies. It’s like my breasts are the people-pleasing older siblings of my unruly ovaries, saying, “We’re so sorry about their behavior. Let us make it up to you.”
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