My name is Whitney and I'm a egg hoarder...

For a long time now, I have joked that my uterus is broken. I found out last week that I was wrong. My uterus in not broken, my ovaries are.

I went to the doctor last Wednesday, trying to find out why my body thinks it is pregnant. Well, the answer is simple enough. It is because I don't ovulate. No big deal right? Well that's what I thought until I started walking out to my car and realized that the doctor had said it was going to be difficult for me to have children. So I called my mom in tears because I was an emotional wreck from all the built up estrogen (oh and don't worry, because I don't ovulate and don't have a period, my body holds on to all that estrogen that builds up over time and exponentially increases my risks for uterine cancer). She of course didn't answer, so I decided to go to the temple, where I bawled like a baby the whole time.

I spent all day calling besties and trying to talk myself into being ok. The real problem, is that it was the 2 of a 1, 2 punch combination of the week (of course after skyping with Jessica about how great my life is right now). The news came the day after a potentially love interest fell off the face of the earth. Story of my life!

There are two really good things that I've realized as I've talked this over with my besties:

1. I can adopt all the Down's Syndrome babies I want.
2. I will have to take ovulating stimulating drugs, which means my chances of multiples increases. Meaning, that I will probably be the next Jon and Kate Plus 8, without the craziness.

My bestie Kendyl said that I'm an egg hoarder. I think I will add that to my power statement:

My name is Whitney, I hoard eggs in my ovaries, I may die a crazy cat lady, and I'm a Mormon.