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A lot of this meme stock stuff is, I think, embarrassing to the SEC.

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It feels like there's not enough room in my body for my ovaries right now.

Like, I can feel how big they are.

Every time I sit up or laugh or sneeze, it's a really weird feeling.

After 10 days of injecting myself with hormones, my ovaries had swollen to the size of two big, juicy lemons.

This was to be expected.

The drugs had revved up my reproductive system so that doctors could retrieve as many eggs

as possible from it.

The days of hormones had made me bloated and exhausted and cranky.

But it was the trigger shots that really got to me.

After giving myself a final two shots that would make the eggs I was growing all release at once, I felt almost

like I had the flu. The big day had arrived, the day of my retrieval, or as I called it, the harvest.

I had fasted since midnight and arranged for my friend to pick me up after the procedure.

Stu was still living in Scotland, but had frozen his sperm a few weeks earlier, after we'd agreed to move forward.

Now I was just ticking through the to-do list I'd been given one last time.

Let's read through this sheet of paper.

So says, do not eat after midnight.

...