In the beginning

I had been on many job interviews - often referred to as dates.

At thirty-five, I heard the faint tick tock of my biological clock and decided that it was time to breed. After a ten-year relationship - four living in sin, five married and one hellish year of divorce - I embarked on dating again as a fully formed adult in search of the father of my children. While prepared to procreate on my own - sperm donors whether anonymous, willing or inadvertent are bountiful - I thought it best to try to f ind a suitable partner with whom to raise the long-imagined child/children.

It started with sushi - bad sushi as it turned out. I ended up throwing up but only after a wonderful a date with the man I would later marry. Our first child was produced without much trouble - a couple of months, a couple of bottles of wine and then voila, our beautiful and blessedly healthy baby girl. Our pursuit of a sibling proved more daunting but after three years of medically assisted help we now have a huge and healthy baby boy.

And so, dear reader, here is my tale of two pregnancies.