I am writing this post about seventy five percent recovered from the strongest old fashioned cocktail of my life. I am two days into a three day narration for my next book, Pregnancy Interrupted (have you pre-ordered? please pre-order), and tonight seemed like a good night to take myself out. I read chapters six through eleven, which meant sharing the historical context of the concept of maternal-fetal conflict, the story of Adriana Smith, and explaining the Red Rover-like cells that replenish the layer of placental goo that separates parent and fetus.

In other words, it’s been a day.

It’s one thing to spend multiple years researching and then writing this material, another thing to read it all aloud over the course of three days. I actually love narration – it’s a way I feel closer to my father and my sister, both of whom are voice talents. And in reading the book out loud, I’m reminded of why I’m so proud of it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written.

But, guys. It’s a lot of hard material.

So rather than write out something longer, a post in pictures: