The supplemental health guru at Whole Foods is the nicest.
She’s probably 20, and a bit hippie (I mean that as a compliment), and she drinks chlorophyll to make her skin look good, though I doubt she needs to. Ever since she helped Erin and I pick out royal jelly and flax oil, I make a point to say hello anytime I see her in the store.
Anyway, this week we had our usual exchange of pleasantries, and then she casually and politely asked, “So, have you had any luck?”
I seriously wouldn’t have known what she was talking about, but she motioned to the belly area of my torso. “Um. No,” I stuttered and then I turned red and then I promised I’d keep her posted. I mean at this point, I’ve already told her I’m trying to get pregnant, why not continue riding the overshare train.
In other news, I promised about a month ago that I would at the very least call the doctor before June. That deadline hung over my head all month. So, I finally called the doctor’s office on the last day of May and set up an appointment for the end of June.
This would be a doctor I’ve never seen before. He comes highly recommended, and his number has been written on a post-it stuck to my fridge for months. It will be interesting to hear what he says.
In the meantime, I have a few weeks to work on improving my overall health (i.e. weight). I’m currently taking the radical approach of eating smaller portions. It’s a revolutionary idea, I tell you.