Dear Ovaries,

Brain here, with an important message I’d like to share with you on behalf of the rest of the body.

First, let me say thanks. You really knocked it out of the park with your contributions in regards to the furtherment of the human species. The body and I will never forget your role in how little Baby 1.0 and Baby 2.0 came to be, and will always be indebted to you for jumpstarting this whole process by suddenly declaring, “I Need A Baby!” The message was loud and clear, and you were right. We did need a baby.

Thanks in part to you, we have remedied the problem with a speed and efficiency that would certainly guarantee our success if we lived in the 1800’s, and needed to quickly birth fifteen children to run our rutabaga farm. 

But before you get too excited and start spewing eggs in celebration, I’m here to tell you, as we are not 19th century rutabaga farmers, your services will no longer be needed.

Following the birth of Baby 2.0, a cease and desist order will be issued, pertaining to anything and everything baby related that comes oozing out of your corpus luteum. No longer will we be responding to your nearly endless reminders regarding how cute, wonderful, or otherwise lovely babies are, nor will we be moved to tears upon seeing a random newborn who belongs to a total stranger at the park.

The Nose is in agreement that aside from Baby 2.0, there will be no baby sniffing allowed, and if by accident, the sweet sweet smell of a baby’s head does enter the nostrils, all efforts to rid the airways of the smell will be made before it can reach its intended destination.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention the effect you’ve had on your poor neighbor, The Uterus, who thanks to your excitability, has spent the last 10 weeks in a state of constant readiness. She is now as irritable as ever, and has filed a formal request for your eviction from the lower abdomen. This request is pending.

Now before you try to use our current state of heavily pregnant as a defense for your actions, or as a basis for an appeal, you should know that anything you say will fall on deaf ears. Literally. The Ears are now both partially deaf from the screaming that Baby 1.0 did as a colicky youngster, and now does for “special milp” on a daily basis. The Ears have filed a formal complaint against you, and pending the birth of Baby 2.0, have expressed interest in pursuing eviction if he proves to be as loud as Baby 1.0.

The rest of the body and I don’t want you to feel unappreciated, but we need you both to know how serious we are. We are, as they say, as serious as a heart attack, which speaking of, you have nearly given us with a random pregnancy scare here and there, so do know that any further scares of that nature will not be tolerated, and will only serve as reason to further pursue punishment against you.

Heart attacks aside, you will be happy to know The Heart remains your biggest fan, and if left up to that sappy bag of blood, there would be at least thirteen more children – as well as any number of bedraggled, pathetic, rescue animals – in our future. Thankfully, The Heart lost the coin toss, so I got to make the call and officially toll the bell that will bring an end to reproduction. Ding dong.

Due to your substantial roll in building our family, you will be permitted to continue releasing eggs on a monthly basis as you see fit, until the day you shrivel up and turn into the useless, fleshy raisins you are destined to become. Additionally, as we are unable to tell which one of you is directly responsible for the offspring, you both will be awarded a participation trophy as a token of our thanks.

But barring an apocalypse, or our mandatory colonization of another plant, you are never to remind the rest of the body of your desires, nor hold it against us that you have nearly 2 million additional eggs at the ready. If you are worried about storage space, we recommend you consider evolving, and perhaps take to heart, or to medula in your case, the saying “less is more.”

The Body and I appreciate your understanding, and willingness to participate in the aforementioned plan.

Sincerely and with the utmost regard,

The Brain

Image credits: cover, uterus.