Unless you have used a turkey baster yourself, it’s hard to even put into words how awkward, awful, and “unsexy” this experience was for us
I worry that the psychiatrist will be discouraging or condescending or fear-mongering. That she’s going to make Dashiell feel like an egg donor and me like a lady bumming an egg off some young hottie with a killer set of ovaries.
Does it seem like I am trying to genetically manipulate myself a strikingly beautiful baby? Because I am. Is that creepy or what?