1984

On Saturday we went to the doctor's office to try and get pregnant. Typically there's a bit of romance involved in this whole process. Some people even enjoy the experience. But most people don't make kids in a petri dish. Tamara was in stirrups as the doctor was giving her meds to knock her out and I was escorted out of the room to give my "sample." That's just how we roll.
To make a long story short, they were able to extract six eggs from Tamara and today we got news that two were fertilized. We were a bit disappointed only two were fertilized but it's better than none. We had planned on implanting two but hoped that we would have some extras frozen in case none of them took. On Tuesday Tamara will go back to have the eggs implanted and we should have more news in two weeks. The good news is she doesn't have to take hormone shots anymore. The better news is she wears two patches that directly feed her estrogen all day long.
We were pretty relieved to have all the shots done and over with so we decided to party. And when we party, we party hard. We threw a surprise party for our friend Reagan. Her husband Jake said that nothing would maker her happier than seeing some of her closest friends dressed in the awesome (his words, not mine) of her birth year. We were happy to oblige. I happened to have this outfit for such an occasion. And a Walkman.