It appears that two months have snuck by since my last post and much has been happening in the House of Devilboy.
After four unsuccessful embryo transfers we discovered that something was growing in my uterus… unfortunately it wasn’t a baby. On doing some more investigation Doctor Sickboy discovered a rather large Polyp which has been hogging around a half of the space of my womb. Now, call me crazy but I would have thought that at least one of the 32,000,000 ultrasounds I’ve had in the last seven months or so might have picked something up but no, that would be far too easy.
So the bad news is that like that other bloody tyrant Pol Pot, Pol Yp been wilfully slaughtering the inhabitants of my womb. I’m fairly sure that unlike under the evil Pot regime, my emby’s have not been forced into slave labour camps and the hugely unpleasant hysterosalpingogram seemed to indicate that no rice paddies had been cultivated. But Yp is guilty of starving them of all important nutrients and bludgeoning them to death as he swings around like a medieval flail.
Our four perfectly lovely and beautiful embryos T2, Frosty, Ice-T and Rocky may as well have been flushed down the toilet along with the thousands of dollars we’ve forked out… for all the hope they had of surviving this genocidal despot.
The good news is that outside forces have stepped in to stop the evil Pol Yp and he has been captured and destroyed. And my uterus has been freshly renovated with shiny pink walls and comfy soft furnishings – ideal accommodation for any self respecting emby.
With nothing left on ice we have started a fresh course of sticking things that are not penises into my body to make babies. We’ve finished with the stupidity drug and the bastard injections and retrieved the nine eggs laid by my funky chickens, eight of which were fertilised. Of those, one is currently doing an inspection of the premises and two have moved into the esky.
Now with fingers and legs crossed all we can do is sit back and wait and hope.