Et tu pater?

So I’m talking to my dad on the phone recently, and sans seqway he says, “did you see…what’s, he’s name, Dr. Goo, Gu…” (my dad is not good with languages).

“Dr. Gupta?” I say.

“Yeah, he was on Good Morning America talking about how two glasses of wine or more for women can cause problems.”

And I say, “Yes, I’m familiar with the research [hello, I’m a health writer!], and actually it’s interesting how different news outlets chose to present the research—alcohol BAD (irregular heartbeat risk with too much wine!) or alcohol OK (light drinking poses no heart risk to women).”

Besides, I don’t make a habit of drinking more than two glasses a wine a night. I won’t say I’ve never had more than two at a sitting, but it’s not common…”

“Still, it’s something to think about,” Dad says.

What I don't say is this: “Oh, Dad, not you too!!”

No, Mom, my eggs went bad, remember?

Recently I went home to Delaware to visit my parents.

Over a breakfast bowl of cereal and apropos of nothing, Mom asks:

“Do you think you’ll ever have your own children?”

Me: “Um, no. It’s too late. Basically biologically impossible.”

Mom: “Huh. Is that because of your PCOS ?"

[PCOS or polycystic ovary syndrome, is an endocrine and reproductive disorder that, among other things, makes it difficult to get pregnant]

Me: “Um, yeah.”

What I didn’t say is this:

“Remember that REALLY IMPORTANT conversation I had with my gynecologist around the time I turned 37? The conversation that kind of changed how I envisioned the rest of my life? It went a little something like this?”