Finally didn’t miscarry one!

This baby melted my heart… and my frozen eggs. All of them. And then another round.

At $50,000, kinda thought I’d get one that didn’t cry.

Look what the stork dropped off eventually!

May your joys be as numerous as your father’s sperm count and your sadness as minimal as my AMH levels.

First came love, then came you. In between, came a year of me thinking I was doing sex wrong.

Sorry you had to spend nine months in a uterus that several medical professionals deemed less hospitable than the surface of Mars. On the bright side, maybe today’s America won’t seem that bad?

Made with lots of love… and even more Clomid.

To think, you were once just a low-quality geriatric egg, and now anything you do wrong will make me wonder if it’s my fault for being older than 16 when I had you.

Stork was like a drunk UberEats. Took every wrong turn, fell asleep at the wheel, forgot our order twice, and overcharged us for something most people make themselves at home. One star.

EmbrYO-LO! (But once is a lot because statistically you were supposed to only live nunce!)

Grateful you’re giving me a shot at being your mom. You better be grateful I gave myself all those shots to get here.

There were times I thought all that subcutaneous-injectable-hormone-induced sobbing might not be worth it, but look at this face!