Memories . . .

One day last week I said to G, "Isn't it weird how we know, practically down to the minute, when P & E were conceived, but with this one we have no clue? Don't you think there should've been some magic in the air that night that we would've noticed? I mean, it's not every day a formerly infertile couple with a firm, unfortunate reason for their diagnosis spontaneously conceives."

G said, "What are you talking about? I have a picture from that night! I know exactly when it was."

Me: "WHAT?"

G: "Look what happens when our home number calls my cell." *Hands over cell phone*

Me: Sees that, in fact, when our home phone number comes up on his caller i.d., a picture of my chest in one of the only low-cut shirts I own flashes on his display screen. Not a picture of all of me, mind you, only my cleavage. Such as it is.

G: "I took that the night we were out with [your friend] P for her birthday. That was September 12, right? And you told me, way back when you found out you were pregnant, that some online calculator you'd used said that based on your June 6th due date, you must've conceived sometime around Sept. 12. So, see? We may not have embryo pictures, but we have a momento!"

Me: Remembers the night in question and the many drinks involved. Realizes that, yes, G and I did have a very good time after we got home that night.

So it turns out that, in fact, we do have a momento from the night Baby Boy was conceived. But I don't think we'll ever be showing it to him.