His name is Fipsy, or at least that’s what we’re calling him when he’s not in the room. He’s a doctor who specializes in women’s health and reproductive medicine. He reminds us both of a mad scientist and we couldn’t love it more. He’s from the east coast and I appreciated that when it came to his straight to the point demeanor and dry sense of humor. I <3 Fipsy (even though he made me get blood tests today, too!) and his degrees from MIT, Johns Hopkins and Harvard. I don’t want some dummy knocking us up, you know?
I don’t know how much I’ll write about this whole process on here. It’s obviously super personal and incredibly sensitive. And I don’t necessarily know that all of my family is on board with the whole process, so sometimes that makes it a little hard for me. I know that no matter what happens, though, this little bundle of poopy diapers will have two parents that adore him/her, an incredibly sweet big brother, and all the awesome aunts and uncles in the world, whether it’s blood or not.
There’s still a lot of time to go before all of this becomes a reality. After all, we do have a trip to Vegas planned in February, where nobody needs to be knocked up. Maybe time will do everyone involved some good, you know?