Letter To Two Bunches Of Cells (7 Days Past Transfer)

Dear Embryos

I’ve been thinking about you both quite a lot and wondering how it’s all going in there.

It’s been a few days now. I think you’re both 12 days old now which is nothing to sneeze at, in anyone’s test tube.

You probably noticed that you’re not the first to occupy the place. Maybe you even had a little bitch amongst yourselves about being given a used uterus.

The truth is, one of your little mates was in there a couple of months ago. I haven’t been in to look myself and nothing’s shown up on the dildocam but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did a bit of tagging round the cervix, graffiti by the fallopian tubes...
Embryo Was ‘Ere... that sort of thing.

Frankly, I think he was that kind of blastocyst.

But let me assure you both, THE LINING HAS NEVER BEEN USED. I grew that one specially for you. (And you. )

And the other thing is, it really wasn’t occupied for long.

Embryo 1 decided not to stay. Not immediately. There was a little pfaffing in the womb, a little lounging around the Pink Palace before he finally jumped the fence.

It was enough to leave the faintest hopeful glimmer of a maybe possibility of a pregnancy.

(You embryos can be a little cruel, anyone ever tell you that in the Petri dish?)

I’m not going to come down all heavy even though I want nothing more than to grab you both in a headlock and staple you to the wall of my uterus. It’s important to let you embryos make up your own little minds (or whatever rudimentary cellular brain smudges you’ve formed) about whether you’re going to hang on.

And I’m not going to bag on about keeping away from the fence because look what a fat lot of good it did with Embryo 1 (known in certain circles as Julian).

Instead I thought I’d encourage you by telling you that a big exciting bonus about sticking around and actually being born is…meeting your dad. I’m pretty sure you’ll think he’s the best thing since…well since that new jello stuff the House Of Groovy IVF Love developed to grow you little guys in…and you all know how good that stuff is, right?

He’s gorgeous and talented and caring and he’s such good fun to play with, ask your cousins the Naughty Nephews.

And I love him more than anybody else in this whole world…for now.

Here’s a little something that no one else knows about your dad.

His head smells like rice pudding with cinnamon on top. True.

And sometimes, like apricots.

And very very occasionally like parmesan cheese but mostly it’s rice pudding and that’s one of my favourite smells in all the world.

And if you come into the world, and I really hope you do, he’ll let you smell his head whenever you like. I think I can speak for him on that one. I’m not sure about the rules on watching tv or spitting from the top floor of posh hotels but the rice pudding head smelling I think we can say is in the bag.

It might even be genetic, so along with his blue eyes and my brown skin, you could get a scalp that smells like a classic English nursery dessert.

It’s your dad’s birthday today. The very first present I ever gave him was a stovetop coffee pot. Wouldn’t it be cool if this year we gave him the biggest present ever…

So just mull it over okay? Think about your gorgeous dad with his blue eyes and his rice pudding head who can’t wait to hold you and love you and play cricket with you.

That’s all I ask.

Well that, and keep away from the fence.

Yours, with ridiculous amounts of love as always



OvaGirl
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