And...exhale!

For all of you who have been holding your breath every month since Genevieve was born, just waiting for me to call and say that I am yet again knocked up like a chubby cheerleader, you can now relax. As of 2:00 yesterday afternoon, a little progesterone-laden plastic sentry has set up camp in my uterus to make sure no one else moves in. Mirena, the goddess of artificial infertility, has granted BD five more years in which to get a vasectomy.