Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Marriage Prep Class #2



Last night Travalon and I went to our second marriage preparation class, this one on family planning. At our age I doubt we can have a ton of kids, so we don’t really need it for the spacing aspect. However, it could be helpful for actually having a child, since it helps pinpoint exactly when your fertile times are. I was concerned from some of the things the instructor said that I may have low progesterone levels, but when I asked her about natural supplements, she demurred and said she isn’t a doctor. Luxuli told me golden seal helps, and Mamastep’s friend Famous told me raw carrots and apricots help, but whether that is with progesterone specifically or just fertility in general, I do not know. This class was just an introductory one; to really use the method, you have to meet with the instructor a bunch of times, but we don’t have time before the wedding, so maybe afterwards we’ll look into this more.

Then Travalon and I went to Old Chicago for some dinner, and the waitress gave us free samples of beer. One was called Chocolate Milkshake, and it really did taste like that. We made it an early night because he wanted to get home before the -50 F winds began. The last two days, people have been staying home from work because of the cold, but I have been coming in. I have to save my vacation time for the honeymoon, after all. Tonight my adoration hour was canceled because they closed our “perpetual” adoration chapel due to the cold, so I will probably do laundry and then work out with Richard Bonomo. No swimming, though – it’s too cold to go outside with wet hair.

Famous Hat

3 comments:

Hardingfele said...

As a low progesterone victim, I can tell you that you take pills your first trimester and man do you PUKE, a lot, everywhere. In fact you will puke if you see the word puke or if you try a chocolate milkshake beer

Famous Hat said...

Morning sickness is one of my biggest fears about pregnancy.

Hardingfele said...

It is not really fear, it is just a pain in the ass for three months. I mean it gets better