All in the Name of a Fetus

I have a photo collage to show you, dearest friends.

There’s a high probability that you do not want to see these pictures. There’s an even higher probability that I want you to feel sorry for me.

This is NOT what a heroin-addict's arm looks like. 

Or is it?

That is the aftermath of having your blood drawn four times from the same arm, after chugging a sick nasty sugar drink. Please notice the blood underneath the skin, which Dr. Google told me is a hematoma (which is also a bruise, but I prefer “hematoma,” as it sounds more fatal). I would tell you more about how you get a hematoma from venipuncture (poking through a vein, hitting an arterial something, etc.), but the last time I tried to look it up, I almost passed out on the floor of my cubicle.

I am happy to report, that I did not vomit or pass out this time!

Almost doesn’t count, am I right?

I attribute my success to my dearest husband, who held my hand during each blood draw, asked me “What Would Jack Bauer Do?” as the blood flowed, and watched three hours of granola birth videos while we waited.

All in all, those Brazilian women know how to push out a baby.