Grow your own babies! Just add sperm!*

Grow your own babies! Just add sperm!*

When you are out of work for over 2 1/2 years, you learn creative ways to “rob Peter to pay Paul” and get away with it.  (Sometimes you even pickpocket John and Matthew, but that is another lesson all together.) However, the moment you get a job everyone suddenly wants their money back.  Peter and Paul have talked and are pissed.  They want everything you owe then RIGHT NOW.  Sometimes it feels worse now than when we knew we had nothing.  (I said sometimes, not always.) So, things are financially tight. 

Being a stay at home mom there comes a certain amount of gi-normous guilt that comes with not contributing and income when you so desperately need one.  Being the supportive wife and team player, I looked into options that will contribute to the family income.

First I looked into donating my own blood and plasma.  After about 2 seconds of research I discovered that they use NEEDLES in this process.  NEEDLES.  I don’t think so.  I love having food in the table, but needles in the arm?  Not so much.

Then I looked into being a ho, but my my wardrobe is all wrong for that.  Who can afford new ho clothes when the whole point is making money?  Logistics, people.

While contemplating all of this a very good friend of mine told me about egg donation.  We started to talk about it and I thought it might be worth looking into.  I can do eggs.  Hell, I am generous.  I’ll even go to Costco and get the industrial size, Grade A Farm Fresh eggs.  I would spare no expense. 

Of course, after a few phone calls I realized they totally meant a different kind of eggs altogether.  Damn the luck.  Yet, still.  I wanted more information. I’ve been through the loss of a baby and the doctors saying I won’t have a baby.  I know the pain.  Been there.  I wanted to find out more.  The idea of helping an infertile AND helping my family out as well.  Double bonus.  So I asked more questions.  (Mistake….oh big mistake.)

Apparently, I am too OLD.  TOO OLD.  Not by a bit.  Not “oh-oh you just missed our cut off age”, but by YEARS.

Too Old.

Apparently, my eggs are more of the powdered egg variety.

Yes, Internet, I have powdered eggs.  And they don’t want them.

You know me, though.  I refuse to be a quitter.  I mean, I could actually be onto something.  I can be the Tang of the Infertility World.  I can just see the adds now.  My very own promotional in the personals: 

“Powdered Eggs:  Just Add Sperm”


“Powdered Eggs:  The Official Eggs of NASA Astronauts”


“Powdered Eggs:  The Tang of Infertility”

I just may have to market my OLD powdered, shriveled eggs.  Hell, if people bought into the idea of dehydrated foods and powdered orange juice, why wouldn’t they embrace the concept of powdered eggs?  Eaiser to transport.  Easier to store.  Easier to buy a dime bag.  Oh yes, I am so onto something.

You heard it here first, my friends.

Get in line.  This is going to be big!

*Title suggested by my very own Blog Advisor who for now is annonymous because the publicity and interviews and banging on her door to become her client would just be too much.  Besides, it’s for her resume.  You don’t need to know who it is unless you are hiring.


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