November marked two years since the husband and I gleefully pinged (pung?) the last condom across the room and started to go at it bare-back. And as we hungrily ripped off each other’s clothes we had one thing on our minds: procreation.
For the past two years my womb has been officially open for business.
And I changed, although not how I’d hoped – the growing stomach, blooming complexion and, you know, generally being pregnant.
Instead these things started to happen: