#ovarian function

[dgspeaks]

Balancing Hormones Naturally: Exploring Myo & D-Chiro Inositol Capsules for Female Reproductive Health

In the realm of women’s health, achieving hormonal balance is paramount for overall well-being and reproductive vitality. Amidst the myriad of supplements promising hormonal support, Myo and D-Chiro Inositol capsules have emerged as a potent ally for women seeking natural solutions to address fertility challenges and hormone-related imbalances. Join us as we delve into the therapeutic potential…

[drasmitadongare]

Understanding Ovarian Cysts in Young Females: Causes, Symptoms, and Risk Factors

Ovarian cysts are common fluid-filled sacs that form on or within the ovaries, particularly among young women during their reproductive years. While most ovarian cysts in young females are benign and resolve on their own, some may lead to uncomfortable symptoms or serious complications if left untreated. This informative blog by Dr. Asmita Dongare, one of the best gynecologists in Baner and Wakad, Pune, explains everything young women need to know about ovarian cysts—right from the types and causes to symptoms, risk factors, and treatment options.

There are two main types of ovarian cysts: functional cysts, which often develop naturally during the menstrual cycle and usually disappear on their own, and pathological cysts, such as dermoid cysts, cystadenomas, and endometriomas, which may require medical or surgical intervention.

The primary causes of ovarian cysts in young females include hormonal imbalances, irregular periods, endometriosis, pelvic infections, and a personal history of cysts. These issues often go unnoticed, which is why regular gynecological check-ups are crucial. According to Dr. Asmita Dongare, many women discover they have cysts only during routine pelvic exams.

Recognizing symptoms early can help avoid complications. Warning signs may include abdominal pain, bloating, painful periods, irregular menstrual cycles, and pain during intercourse. In some cases, severe pain accompanied by nausea may indicate ovarian torsion or cyst rupture, both of which require urgent medical care.

Diagnosis typically involves a combination of pelvic exams, ultrasound imaging, and blood tests. Based on the size, type, and severity of the cyst, treatment options can range from watchful waiting and hormonal therapy to minimally invasive laparoscopic surgery.

If you’re searching for ovarian cyst treatment in Pune, Dr. Asmita Dongare at Cloverleaf Specialty Clinic offers expert, personalized care using the latest gynecological techniques. Her patient-friendly approach makes her one of the most trusted specialists for ovarian cyst treatment in young females.

Whether you're experiencing symptoms or need a second opinion, schedule a consultation with Dr. Asmita Dongare, your reliable partner in women’s healthcare in Baner, Wakad, and across Pune.

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

Curled up in the fetal position desperately applying pressure to my abdomen like I’m bleeding out from a fatal wound and my beautiful sweetheart of a cat kibby walked over me after somehow opening my door without me hearing and then just kinda stood there with me before she ran off again

Edit: I thought she ran off but she actually just laid down quietly behind me and I couldn’t see her

[pucksandpower]

To Build a Home

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader x Charles Leclerc

Summary: after you and your husbands are left heartbroken by news that seemingly put an end to your dreams of a family, the three of you are drawn to two young orphaned siblings who need you as much as you need them

Warnings: struggles with infertility

Based on this request

The fertility specialist’s office smells sterile, like antiseptic and plastic. You’ve been staring at the same drab poster of the reproductive system for what feels like hours. A part of you wonders if it's designed to be boring, as if anything too colorful would be inappropriate in a place like this.

Max sits beside you, one hand on your knee, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles through the fabric of your jeans. Charles is on your other side, leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs, his fingers interlaced so tightly they’re almost white.

The doctor walks in, clipboard in hand, a practiced neutral expression on his face. You try to read him, but there’s nothing to read. He’s done this a thousand times.

“Thank you for your patience,” he says, sitting across from you. He glances at the three of you, clearly used to couples but perhaps not quite this combination. He doesn’t falter, though. “I have the results of your tests.��

You hold your breath. Max’s hand tightens on your knee. Charles doesn’t move.

The doctor takes a moment, flipping a page on the clipboard. “We’ve reviewed all of the tests extensively. There is no male factor infertility present. Both of you” — he nods toward Max and Charles — “have excellent sperm count and motility. No concerns there.”

Your heart beats so loudly you wonder if the others can hear it.

He looks at you. It feels like an eternity passes before he speaks again. “For you, we found a condition called primary ovarian insufficiency. It means that your ovaries are no longer functioning normally before the age of 40. In your case, this means lower egg production, and unfortunately, a significantly decreased chance of natural conception.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Max’s hand turns ice-cold against your skin. Charles shifts beside you, inhaling a sharp breath that cuts through the sterile silence of the room.

“So … what does that mean?” You ask, and your voice sounds so small you barely recognize it.

“It means,” the doctor says gently, “that it’s very unlikely you’ll be able to conceive naturally. There are treatments that might help, but with this diagnosis, the odds are lower than average.”

“Lower than average,” Charles repeats, voice tight, almost robotic. He’s staring at the floor. You know that look — it’s the look he gets when he’s trying not to fall apart.

Max clears his throat. “What are the options?” He’s speaking through clenched teeth, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s anger or fear or both. Maybe both.

“IVF is one option,” the doctor says, unperturbed. “But with primary ovarian insufficiency, egg quality and quantity are concerns. You might consider using donor eggs or exploring surrogacy or adoption.”

Donor eggs. Surrogacy. Adoption. Each word feels like another blow, another layer of guilt and inadequacy. Your throat tightens, and tears prick your eyes. You try to swallow them back, but one escapes, sliding down your cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor says, and it’s genuine, but it doesn’t help. “I’ll give you some time.”

He stands and exits the room, leaving the three of you in a suffocating silence. You don’t move. You can’t. Your hands are trembling in your lap.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper. It’s barely a sound, but they hear it. Of course they hear it.

Max turns to you immediately. “No. No, don’t say that.”

“It is.” You turn to look at him, tears blurring your vision. “You and Charles … you’re fine. You’re perfect. It’s me. I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Charles says, voice cracking. He’s leaning toward you now, eyes desperate. “Don’t say that about yourself.”

“But it’s true.” You pull away, needing the distance. “I’m the reason we can’t have kids. The big family you both wanted … it’s because of me.”

“Hey.” Max’s hand moves to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his. His blue eyes are so intense, so full of pain and love it almost shatters you. “We will have a big family. It might not be the way we planned, but we’ll get there.”

You shake your head. “But it won’t be the same. It won’t be-”

“It doesn’t matter how we get there,” Charles interrupts, his voice firmer now. “You think it makes a difference to me if our children come from your body or someone else’s? They’ll still be ours. They’ll still be loved. You’ll still be their mother.”

You look down, unable to hold his gaze. “It’s not fair to you two. You deserve someone who can-”

“Stop.” Max’s voice is low, dangerous in a way that makes you pause. “Don’t ever say that again. We love you. We chose you. We would choose you again in every lifetime.”

Tears are streaming down your face now. You can’t stop them. Charles takes your hand, threading his fingers through yours. His grip is tight, unbreakable. “We didn’t marry you just to have kids,” he says quietly. “We married you because we love you. This doesn’t change that.”

“But it changes everything,” you insist, frustration and heartbreak mingling into a mess you can’t untangle.

“No, it doesn’t,” Max says, leaning forward until his forehead touches yours. “It just means we have to find a different way. And we will. We’ll figure it out.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. “I’m scared.”

“We are too,” Charles admits, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “But we’ll face it. Together. Like Max said.”

Silence settles in again, but this time it’s different. Less suffocating. More like a fragile, tentative peace. Max wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, and Charles leans in to press a soft kiss against your temple.

You exhale shakily. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Max says, and there’s a small, almost broken smile on his lips. “We’ve got this. We’ve got you.”

Charles nods, and his eyes are filled with so much hope it’s almost unbearable. “No matter what, we’ll have our family. One way or another.”

You nod, not because you believe it yet, but because they do. And maybe that’s enough, at least for now.

***

The orphanage is a charming old building tucked into one of Monaco’s quieter streets, its stone façade softened by ivy and strings of twinkling Christmas lights. The sound of children’s laughter spills out onto the sidewalk, where a handful of staff is arranging a small Christmas display. It smells like pine needles and freshly baked cookies, and you think it’s the kind of place that tries its hardest to be warm, even when life isn’t.

You tug your scarf tighter against the chill, glancing at Max and Charles. Max is holding a large bag of wrapped presents, the bright paper peeking out through the opening. Charles, as always, has a warm smile ready for anyone who passes by.

“I think this is going to be fun,” Charles says, glancing at you. “I mean, how often do kids get to meet Santa and two F1 drivers in the same day?”

“Santa’s still the headliner here,” you tease.

Max smirks. “I don’t know. I’ve seen Charles in a Santa hat. It’s a close call.”

Charles rolls his eyes, but there’s no hiding his amusement. He looks down at the bag of presents you’re carrying. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The three of you step inside, greeted almost immediately by the matron, a kind-faced woman named Madame Ricard. She clasps her hands together in delight when she sees the three of you, her warm energy a perfect match for the festive setting.

“Oh, this is such a treat for the children,” she says, her French accent thick but easy to understand. “They’ve been talking about it all week. Come, come, let me show you the way.”

You follow her into a large common room, where a group of children is gathered around a tree that looks like it was decorated by a dozen tiny hands. Tinsel hangs in uneven loops, and ornaments are clustered in some places and sparse in others. It’s perfect.

The kids freeze for a moment when they see you, their eyes going wide. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, they erupt into cheers and giggles.

“Charles! Max!” One of the older boys shouts, his voice cracking with excitement.

“Santa!” Another yells, pointing at the man in the red suit who follows close behind you.

Max laughs, setting down the bag of gifts. “I think they’re more excited about you, mate,” he says to Santa, who waves jovially.

You step forward, kneeling to hand out the first few presents. The kids swarm you, but it’s all happy chaos. Max and Charles are instantly surrounded, signing autographs on toy cars and posters that some of the children miraculously seem to have on hand.

As you hand out another gift, your eyes wander to a quieter corner of the room. There, separate from the laughter and commotion, are two small figures.

The older one is a boy, maybe five years old, with a mop of dark hair and a protective posture. He’s standing in front of a little girl who can’t be more than three, his arms spread slightly as if to shield her from the world. Her tiny face is buried in his shirt, her small hands clutching the fabric.

Your heart squeezes.

You tap Charles on the shoulder, nodding toward them. “Who are they?”

Charles follows your gaze, frowning. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them move at all.”

Madame Ricard notices where you’re looking and sighs softly. “Ah, those two.” She kneels beside you, her expression full of a sadness that doesn’t belong in a place this joyful.

“They’re new,” she explains. “A brother and sister. Their parents died in a car accident a few weeks ago. They were on vacation here in Monaco when it happened.”

You feel your stomach drop. “They don’t have any other family?”

She shakes her head. “No one we’ve been able to find. And to make things more difficult, they don’t speak French, Italian, or English. It’s been hard for them to adjust.”

“They’re completely alone,” Charles murmurs, his voice barely audible.

Max steps forward, his jaw tight. “What language do they speak?”

“We’re not entirely sure,” Madame Ricard admits. “They haven’t spoken much at all. A few words here and there, but we haven’t been able to identify it.”

Max’s brow furrows, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. He glances at you and Charles before stepping closer to the children.

“Hey,” he says softly, kneeling a few feet away from the boy. His Dutch accent is more pronounced when he speaks to children, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m Max. This is Charles and …” He glances back at you. “This is our wife. We just wanted to say hi.”

The boy doesn’t respond. His eyes are wary, darting between Max and the little girl at his side.

Max tries again, switching to Dutch this time. “Kan je me verstaan?”

Still nothing.

He exhales, then tries German. “Verstehst du mich?”

The change is almost instantaneous. The boy’s eyes widen, his grip on the little girl loosening just slightly.

“You speak German?” Max asks, his tone careful but hopeful.

The boy nods, just once, but it’s enough to make Max smile.

“What’s your name?” Max continues in German.

The boy hesitates, glancing down at the girl before answering in a small voice. “Lukas.”

Max’s smile grows. “Hi, Lukas. Is this your sister?”

Lukas nods again, his small hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Her name is Leni.”

“Hi, Leni,” Max says, his voice impossibly kind. Leni peeks out from behind Lukas, her wide, tear-filled eyes meeting Max’s.

“She’s scared,” Lukas says quietly.

Max’s expression softens. “That’s okay. It’s a scary thing, isn’t it? Being somewhere new.”

Lukas nods, his lip trembling.

Max glances back at you and Charles, switching briefly to English. “They’re German. Lukas and Leni.”

Charles kneels beside him, even though he doesn’t understand the words being spoken. “Can you tell them it’s okay? That they’re safe?”

Max translates, and Lukas looks at Charles, his expression uncertain but a little less guarded.

“Does she like presents?” You ask, holding up a small, brightly wrapped box.

Max repeats the question in German, and Lukas hesitates before nodding.

You crouch down, holding the box out to Leni. “This is for you.”

Lukas whispers something to her in German, and Leni reaches out with a trembling hand to take the gift.

“Go on,” Max encourages. “You can open it.”

Leni looks up at Lukas, who nods, and then she carefully tears into the paper. When she pulls out a soft, plush bear, her eyes light up for the first time. She clutches it to her chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Lukas looks up at Max, his voice barely above a whisper. “Danke.”

Max smiles. “You’re welcome.”

You exchange a glance with Charles, your chest tight with emotion. You didn’t come here to find anyone, to change anyone’s life. But looking at Lukas and Leni, it’s hard not to feel like something’s already shifting.

“They’re so small,” you whisper.

Charles nods, his voice thick. “Too small to be alone.”

Madame Ricard watches the interaction, her expression unreadable. “They’ve been through so much,” she says softly. “But I can already see a difference. You’ve made them feel seen.”

You glance back at Lukas, who’s now sitting cross-legged on the floor with Leni, showing her how to properly hug the bear. Max is still beside them, speaking softly in German, his tone soothing and patient.

Charles leans closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “What are you thinking?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight with emotion. “I’m thinking they shouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone.”

Charles doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he watches them, his expression as soft and full of unspoken things as you feel. “Neither should we.”

You’re not sure what he means, but you think you might know.

***

The bedroom is quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. The three of you are wrapped in the warm cocoon of your shared bed, but it feels different tonight. There’s no teasing banter, no sleepy laughter, no idle conversation about the race calendar or holiday plans. Just silence.

You’re lying between Max and Charles, your head resting against Max’s chest, while Charles holds your hand loosely under the blanket. Normally, you’d be lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of Max’s breathing or Charles’ absentminded humming. But tonight, your thoughts are elsewhere.

You can’t stop thinking about Lukas and Leni.

Their little faces flash in your mind over and over again — Lukas’ wary but determined expression, the way his body shielded his sister as if he alone could protect her from the world. Leni’s wide, tear-filled eyes and how tightly she clutched that bear once she finally opened up enough to take it.

You blink against the sting of tears.

“Alright,” Max’s voice cuts through the silence. He doesn’t sound annoyed, just concerned. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, though it’s half-hearted.

“You’ve been quiet all night,” Charles says, his accent softening the words. He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “Lost in thought. We can tell.”

Max’s hand moves to your back, drawing slow, soothing circles. “Talk to us.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to say what’s been swirling in your mind since you left the orphanage. It feels big — too big to articulate. But when you look at Charles’ gentle eyes and feel the steady comfort of Max’s touch, the dam breaks.

“It’s Lukas and Leni,” you say, your voice trembling slightly.

Max stops rubbing your back, his hand stilling as he waits for you to continue.

“I can’t stop thinking about them,” you admit. “The way Lukas was protecting her … the way they’re so alone. They don’t even have anyone who can speak to them in their own language.”

Charles sits up more fully, his brow furrowing. “It’s heartbreaking,” he says quietly, and you can tell he feels it too.

You take a deep breath, trying to organize the mess of emotions inside you. “I don’t know how to explain it, but … it felt like we were meant to find them. Like they were meant to find us.”

Max’s hand moves to your hair, his fingers threading gently through the strands. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “I keep thinking about how scared they must be. How lost. And I … I can’t stand the idea of them spending Christmas alone, in a place where no one understands them. It doesn’t feel right.”

The tears you’ve been holding back spill over, and you quickly wipe at your eyes. “I know it sounds crazy. We just met them. But I can’t shake this feeling that … I don’t know. That the five of us were meant to be together.”

Neither of them speaks for a moment, and you immediately regret saying it. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, sitting up and turning your face away. “I don’t even know what I’m saying. It’s just-”

“Hey.” Max’s voice is firm but gentle, and his hand catches yours before you can pull away completely. “Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to feel this way.”

Charles shifts closer, his hand brushing your arm. “I feel it too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to look at him, your tears blurring his face. “You do?”

He nods. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them either. Lukas especially. The way he looked at us … like he wanted to trust us but didn’t know if he could. I can’t get it out of my head.”

Max exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “And Leni,” he says, his voice tight. “She’s just a baby. They’re both so small, and they’ve already been through so much.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes again. “What are we supposed to do? We can’t just … leave them there.”

Max and Charles share a look over your head, one of those silent conversations they’ve perfected over the years. You’ve seen it before — on race days, in press conferences, during moments of unspoken understanding between them.

Finally, Max speaks. “We’re not leaving them there.”

Your heart skips. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes your hand again, his grip firm and reassuring. “I mean that we’ll go back. First thing tomorrow morning. We’ll talk to Madame Ricard, figure out what we need to do.”

“To adopt them?” You ask, your voice small but filled with hope.

“If that’s what it takes, yes,” Max says without hesitation.

You feel your breath catch, the weight of their words settling over you. “Are you sure?”

“We’re sure,” Charles says. “It’s like you said — it feels right. It feels like they’re meant to be with us.”

Max nods, his expression serious. “We’ve already been talking about starting a family. This … this might be how it’s supposed to happen.”

Your tears start again, but this time they’re different. Lighter. Full of something you haven’t felt in a long time — hope.

“I love you both so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

Charles pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you completely. “We love you too,” he says, his voice muffled against your hair.

Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’re going to do this.”

For the first time all night, the silence in the room feels peaceful. The three of you stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, until sleep finally comes.

And when it does, it’s with the quiet certainty that tomorrow will bring something new — something life-changing.

***

The drive to the orphanage feels longer than it did yesterday, even though the streets of Monaco are quiet in the early morning. Max’s hands grip the steering wheel tighter than usual, his knuckles pale against the leather. Charles sits in the passenger seat, his phone resting in his lap, while you’re tucked into the backseat, staring out the window. None of you speak, but the air is heavy with anticipation.

As soon as Max parks, Charles is out of the car, opening your door for you before you even have the chance to unbuckle. Max grabs the bag of gifts you’d brought back in case you see the other children again, though it feels secondary now.

Inside, the orphanage is quieter than yesterday. Only a few children are up, milling around the common room, their laughter softer in the early light. Madame Ricard greets you near the entrance, her warm smile faltering when she sees the determined expressions on your faces.

“You’re back early,” she says, glancing between the three of you.

“We need to talk to you,” Charles says, his tone polite but urgent.

Madame Ricard’s brows knit together, but she nods. “Of course. Come with me.”

She leads you to her small office, its walls lined with books and photographs of smiling children. There’s a wreath hanging in the window, and the desk is cluttered with papers and a half-empty cup of coffee. She gestures for you to sit, but none of you do.

“We want to adopt Lukas and Leni,” Max says without preamble, his Dutch accent more pronounced in his urgency.

Madame Ricard blinks, her surprise evident. “That’s … that’s wonderful, but adoption is not something that can happen overnight. There’s a process — an extensive one. Home studies, background checks, legal clearances. It can take months, sometimes even years.”

You feel your stomach drop, but Charles steps forward, his expression firm. “We understand there are steps, and we’re prepared to take them. But surely there’s something that can be done to expedite the process. They shouldn’t have to wait in limbo if there’s a family ready to take them.”

Madame Ricard sighs, her hands folding neatly on the desk. “I don’t doubt your intentions. You all seem like wonderful people, and I’m sure you would make excellent parents. But the system is in place to protect the children. It’s not something I can simply bypass.”

Charles glances at you, then at Max, before pulling out his phone. He scrolls for a moment, then presses a number and raises it to his ear.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, but he holds up a finger, his focus on the call.

“Bonjour,” Charles says smoothly, switching to French. “I hope I’m not interrupting, Your Serene Highness.”

Your eyes widen, and Max mutters something in Dutch under his breath that you’re certain isn’t polite.

“Yes, it’s Charles,” Charles continues, his voice calm but determined. “I need a favor. It’s urgent.”

Madame Ricard’s mouth falls open slightly, her gaze darting between Charles and the phone. You can barely process what’s happening as Charles explains the situation to the Prince of Monaco, his words measured but impassioned.

When he hangs up, he turns back to Madame Ricard with a small, triumphant smile. “Prince Albert has assured me he’ll do everything in his power to help expedite the process. You’ll be hearing from his office shortly.”

Madame Ricard stares at him for a moment, then laughs softly, shaking her head. “I forgot who I was speaking to for a moment. Well, if the Prince is involved, that does change things. But you’ll still need to go through some initial steps before we can begin the process officially.”

“That’s fine,” Max says, his voice steady. “We’ll do whatever we need to. But can we see them?”

Madame Ricard hesitates, then nods. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”

You walk through the halls in silence, your heart pounding in your chest. When you reach the common room, Lukas and Leni are exactly where you’d seen them yesterday — off to the side, separate from the other children. Lukas is sitting cross-legged on the floor, his arms around Leni, who is curled up against him with the plush bear you gave her.

“They’ve barely moved since this morning,” Madame Ricard says softly.

You exchange a glance with Max and Charles before stepping forward together. Max crouches first, his tall frame folding easily as he kneels a few feet from Lukas.

“Hallo, Lukas,” Max says gently in German. “Do you remember me?”

Lukas’ eyes lift, wary but familiar. He nods, his grip on Leni tightening slightly.

“This is my wife,” Max continues, gesturing to you. “And you remember our husband?”

Lukas nods again, his expression unreadable.

Max glances back at you, and you lower yourself to the floor beside him. Charles follows suit on the other side, forming a small circle around the children without crowding them.

“Lukas,” Max says softly, his tone careful but warm. “I want to ask you something. It’s very important.”

Lukas tilts his head slightly, his curiosity piqued despite his guarded demeanor.

Max takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto the boy’s. “Would you and Leni like to come home with us?”

For a moment, Lukas doesn’t respond. His brow furrows, and he looks down at Leni, who is clutching her bear tightly, her small face pressed into his side.

“Home?” Lukas echoes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max nods. “Yes. With us. We want to take care of you and Leni. We want to be your family.”

Lukas’ eyes widen, his grip on Leni loosening just slightly as he processes the words. He looks at you, then at Charles, his gaze searching.

“You want us?” He asks, his voice trembling.

You feel your throat tighten, but you manage to nod. “Yes, we do. More than anything.”

Charles leans forward slightly, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. We’ll take care of you. Both of you.”

Lukas’ lower lip trembles, and he looks down at Leni, who finally peeks out from where she’s been hiding. Her wide, tear-filled eyes meet Max’s, and she whispers something in German that you can’t understand.

“What did she say?” You ask quietly, glancing at Max.

Max’s voice is thick with emotion when he answers. “She asked ‘are you going to be our Mama and Vatis?’”

You feel the tears welling in your eyes, and you don’t bother trying to stop them. “Yes, sweetheart,” you say, your voice trembling. “We are. If you’ll have us.”

Lukas looks at Leni, then back at the three of you. His small shoulders square, and for the first time, his expression softens into something that looks like hope.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “We’ll go with you.”

You reach out cautiously, your hand trembling slightly as you place it gently on Lukas’. He doesn’t pull away.

Charles exhales a shaky breath, his hand coming to rest on Leni’s bear. “We’re going to take care of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Both of you.”

Max nods, his jaw tight as he fights to keep his own emotions in check. “You’re not alone anymore. You have us now.”

And for the first time, Lukas smiles — a small, tentative thing, but a smile nonetheless. It feels like the most important thing in the world.

***

One Month Later

The apartment is chaos. Wonderful, heartwarming chaos, but chaos nonetheless.

You can’t remember the last time it was this loud, and that’s saying something considering you’ve lived with two world-class athletes, three cats, and two mischievous dachshunds for years. But the addition of Lukas and Leni has turned the volume — and the energy — up several notches.

“Lukas, no running in the hallway!” You call, stepping over Jimmy, who is sprawled across the kitchen floor, his tail flicking lazily.

“He’s not running!” Max’s voice echoes from the living room. “He’s just … moving very quickly!”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as Leni tugs at the hem of your sweater. She’s clutching a small pile of bath toys in one hand and pointing toward the bathroom with the other.

“Bath time?” You ask gently, crouching to her level.

She nods eagerly, her curls bouncing with the motion.

“Okay, let’s find Lukas and-”

A loud crash interrupts you, followed by Charles shouting something in rapid French that sounds suspiciously like a curse. You turn the corner to find Lukas standing in the middle of the living room, an overturned laundry basket at his feet and Leo gleefully chasing a pair of socks across the floor.

“Lukas,” you sigh, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“It was an accident!” Lukas insists, his hands flying up in a defensive gesture.

Charles appears from behind the couch, his hair slightly disheveled and his expression exasperated but affectionate. “An accident that somehow involved the dog stealing my socks?”

Leo lets out a triumphant bark, the sock still dangling from his mouth, before darting under the coffee table.

Max leans against the doorway, arms crossed and a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I think it’s a team effort,” he says.

You shake your head, trying to stifle a laugh. “Alright, enough chaos. It’s bath time.”

“Bath time?” Lukas groans, his face scrunching up in distaste.

“Yes, bath time,” Charles says firmly, scooping up the laundry basket and tossing the scattered clothes back inside. “You’re covered in dirt from playing outside.”

“And Leni’s ready,” you add, holding up her bath toys as she beams up at you.

“I’m not dirty,” Lukas mutters, crossing his arms.

Max raises an eyebrow. “There’s literally mud on your knees, little man. Let’s go.”

It takes some coaxing, but eventually, everyone makes it to the bathroom. Lukas and Leni sit on the edge of the tub, Leni excitedly dropping her toys into the water while Lukas looks like he’s planning his escape.

“Okay, clothes off,” you say, trying to keep things moving.

Leni complies immediately, but Lukas hesitates, his arms crossing over his chest again.

“It’s just a bath,” Max says, kneeling down to Lukas’ level. “Nothing to be scared of.”

“I’m not scared,” Lukas mumbles, though his voice is quieter now.

Charles crouches next to Max, his tone gentle. “Do you want us to stay with you? Or we can leave the door open if that makes you feel better.”

Lukas glances at Leni, who is happily splashing her toys in the water, then back at Max and Charles. Finally, he nods. “Stay.”

You exchange a relieved look with Max as the two of you help the kids into the tub. The next ten minutes are a whirlwind of water, bubbles, and shrieks of laughter.

“Careful, Leni!” Charles exclaims as she flings a handful of bubbles at him, catching him squarely on the nose.

“Lukas, not the cat!” You yelp as Lukas splashes too enthusiastically and sends a wave of water cascading over the edge of the tub, directly onto Jimmy, who had wandered in to investigate.

Jimmy bolts, his tail puffed up like a bottlebrush, just as Leo decides to join the fray, leaping up to chase the bubbles floating in the air.

In the chaos, Max slips on the wet floor, catching himself on the edge of the sink. “This is a disaster,” he says, laughing as water drips from his hair.

“No, this is parenthood,” you reply, grinning as you wring out the hem of your sweater.

By the time the kids are clean and wrapped in fluffy towels, the bathroom looks like a hurricane hit it. Charles is soaked from head to toe, Max’s socks squelch with every step, and you’re pretty sure you’ll be finding remnants of stray bubbles for days.

But when Leni giggles and tugs on your sleeve, pointing at the three of you with a wide, toothy grin, it feels worth it.

***

That night, the apartment is finally quiet. Lukas and Leni are tucked into their new beds, Leo and Nino curled up at the foot of Lukas’ mattress, while the cats have retreated to their usual perches.

You’re sprawled on the couch between Max and Charles, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“I can’t believe how much energy they have,” you say, your head resting on Max’s shoulder.

“It’s like they’re powered by chaos,” Charles agrees, his arm draped over the back of the couch.

Max chuckles softly, his hand absently playing with the ends of your hair. “Chaos is putting it lightly.”

Despite your exhaustion, a sense of contentment washes over you. Your home feels fuller now — messier, louder, but fuller.

Just as you’re starting to drift off, a soft noise catches your attention. It’s the sound of small footsteps, hesitant and quiet, but unmistakable.

You sit up slightly, and a moment later, Lukas and Leni appear in the doorway, clutching their blankets and looking small and uncertain.

“What’s wrong?” You ask gently, swinging your legs off the couch.

“Nightmare,” Lukas says quietly, his free hand gripping Leni’s tightly.

Your heart clenches, and you’re already on your feet, moving toward them. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lukas shakes his head, his eyes darting toward Max and Charles.

“Do you want to stay with us for a little while?” Max asks, his voice soft.

Both kids nod, and before you know it, they’re climbing onto the couch. Lukas settles between Max and Charles, while Leni crawls into your lap, clutching her blanket like a lifeline.

Charles pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over all of you, his hand resting gently on Lukas’ back. Max leans down to press a kiss to Leni’s hair, his eyes meeting yours over her head.

For a long time, no one speaks. The kids slowly relax, their breathing evening out as they drift back to sleep, cocooned in the warmth of your little family.

“I think they’re starting to trust us,” Charles whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah. I think they are.”

Max tightens his arm around Lukas, his gaze soft. “We’re going to be okay,” he says quietly. “All of us.”

And in that moment, with the kids nestled against you and the warmth of Max and Charles surrounding you, you know he’s right.

***

One Year Later

The sun filters through the trees lining the courtyard of La Maternelle, casting dappled light on the cheerful faces of parents waiting to pick up their children. You stand between Max and Charles, your hands wrapped around a paper bag from the kids’ favorite bakery. Inside, two perfectly iced pastries sit, waiting to be devoured.

“Do you think they liked it?” You ask, glancing at the colorful mural decorating the preschool’s front wall.

Charles, leaning against the railing, grins. “Of course. Lukas was practically vibrating with excitement this morning. And Leni …” His voice softens. “She’ll love anything if Lukas does.”

Max chuckles, crossing his arms as he watches the doors. “Let’s see if they’re still smiling when they come out.”

You nudge him playfully. “Stop worrying. They’ll be fine.”

As if on cue, the large doors open, releasing a flood of tiny, chattering students. Teachers lead them in pairs down the stairs to their waiting parents, and the air fills with the sound of children’s voices, an overlapping mix of French, English, and the occasional giggle.

“There they are!” Charles says, pointing.

Lukas and Leni appear, hand in hand, walking down the steps alongside their teacher. Lukas is gesturing animatedly to a boy beside him, and Leni’s face lights up when she spots the three of you waiting.

“Vati! Papa! Mama!” Lukas shouts, waving so hard his backpack bounces with every step.

Your heart swells as they break into a run, dodging around other parents and children. Leni nearly trips, but Lukas catches her arm and steadies her before continuing their dash.

“Look at them,” Max murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You crouch down, arms open, and Leni barrels into you, wrapping her little arms around your neck. Lukas follows a second later, colliding into Max and Charles with equal enthusiasm.

“How was it?” You ask, holding Leni close as her curls tickle your cheek.

“It was so good!” Lukas exclaims, switching to German mid-sentence. “We painted, and I made a dog, and the teacher said it was good, and-”

“Wait, slow down,” Max says, laughing. “One at a time.”

Leni tugs on your sleeve, her voice quieter but no less excited. “I made a friend,” she says in French, her big eyes shining.

“You did?” You ask, your chest tightening with pride.

She nods. “Her name is Amélie. She has a pink dress.”

“Amélie is very lucky to have you as a friend,” Charles says, reaching out to smooth her curls.

Lukas jumps in, switching to English this time. “And there’s a boy who likes dinosaurs like me! His name is Leo-”

“Like our Leo?” Max asks, his grin widening.

Lukas laughs, shaking his head. “No, not like the dog!”

The four of you are caught in a swirl of excited recounting — art projects, new words they learned, and the rules of a game they played — when a sharp voice cuts through the happy chaos.

“Well, isn’t this quite the picture?”

You look up to find a woman standing nearby, her arms crossed and a thin smile on her lips. She’s impeccably dressed, her posture stiff as she surveys your little group.

Max tenses immediately, his arm moving instinctively to rest on Lukas’ shoulder. Charles straightens, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“They’re yours, then?” The woman asks, her tone laced with something you can’t quite place.

You rise slowly, still holding Leni’s hand. “Yes, they’re our children.”

The woman’s gaze flicks between Max and Charles, her thin smile sharpening. “Which one of you is their father?”

You feel Max stiffen beside you, but it’s Charles who answers first, his voice calm but firm. “We both are.”

The woman lets out a laugh — short, clipped, and dripping with condescension. “Right. But which one actually is? You know, biologically.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, but you keep your voice steady. “Neither of them is.”

The woman raises a perfectly plucked brow. “Ah, so you’re one of those.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you take a step forward, still holding Leni’s hand. “One of those?” You echo, your voice low and icy.

The woman shrugs, her smile now openly smug. “A whore who managed to get her claws into two wealthy men.”

Max moves before you can even register it, his eyes blazing. “What did you just say?”

“Max,” Charles says sharply, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing. But his own voice is tight, and his hand trembles slightly.

The woman doesn’t back down, her gaze flicking between the three of you like she’s daring you to challenge her.

You step forward, letting go of Leni’s hand to stand your ground. Your voice is cold, clear, and unwavering. “None of us are their biological parents because Lukas and Leni are adopted. But we are their family in every way that matters.”

The woman snorts, waving a dismissive hand. “Adopted. So you’re not actually their parents.”

The dam breaks.

Max’s voice rises first, his Dutch accent sharp as he glares at her. “We love those kids more than you can possibly understand. How dare you suggest otherwise?”

Charles follows, his words laced with steel. “It doesn’t matter if they share our blood. They are ours, and we are theirs. That’s what makes a family.”

You step closer, your voice trembling with controlled fury. “You don’t get to stand here and insult us or our children because you can’t understand what love and family look like.”

The woman opens her mouth to reply, but Lukas beats her to it.

“Let’s go, Mama,” he says loudly, tugging at your hand and looking pointedly at the woman. “She’s not nice.”

You blink down at him, your heart swelling with pride and affection. “You’re absolutely right,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Charles bends down to pick up Leni, who has been watching the exchange quietly, her big eyes fixed on you. “Let’s go get a treat,” he says softly, his voice warm again.

As the five of you turn to leave, Lukas pauses. He looks back over his shoulder at the woman, his little face scrunched in determination. Then he sticks out his tongue, the gesture so quick and childish it takes you a moment to register it.

Max bursts out laughing, the sound startlingly loud after the tension of the moment. “That’s my boy,” he says, ruffling Lukas’ hair.

You can’t help but laugh too, the sound bubbling up as you walk away, hand in hand with your family.

“Good job, Lukas,” Charles says with a grin. “But next time, let’s not give her the satisfaction of a reaction, okay?”

Lukas looks up at him, confused. “What’s satisfaction?”

“It means she wanted us to be mad,” you explain, bending down to meet his gaze. “But we don’t have to let her make us feel bad. We know the truth, right?”

Lukas nods slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. “The truth is that we’re a family.”

“That’s exactly right,” Max says, his voice filled with pride.

As you hand Leni her pastry and take Lukas’ hand again, you can’t help but feel a swell of gratitude. For all the challenges, for all the moments like this, you wouldn’t trade your little family for anything in the world.

***

The paddock is alive with its usual pre-race buzz — team members rushing to and from garages, media personnel chatting with drivers, and fans craning for a glimpse of their favorites. You’re seated on a bench near the Red Bull motorhome with Lukas and Leni perched on either side of you, their little legs swinging in excitement. Max and Charles had just been whisked away for team meetings, leaving you in charge of keeping the kids entertained until they returned.

“Can we see the cars now?” Lukas asks, his eyes lighting up as a Red Bull engineer walks by with a shiny front wing. “I want to see the wheels up close.”

“Not yet,” you say, smiling as you ruffle his hair. “Soon, I promise. But first, we’re staying here. Your Vati and Papa will be back before you know it.”

“I want to see the helmets,” Leni adds, holding tightly to the small Ferrari flag Charles had given her earlier. “Are they shiny?”

“They’re very shiny,” you assure her, leaning in conspiratorially. “Maybe we’ll even help your fathers put them on later.”

Before Leni can ask another question, a young woman holding a camera and a phone approaches you hesitantly. “Hi, um, excuse me? You’re … you’re Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc’s wife, right?”

You blink, caught off guard. “I am.”

Her face lights up. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a TikToker, and I do these short interviews with fans and families at races. Would you be okay with answering a few questions? It won’t take long.”

You glance down at Lukas and Leni. “If it’s quick …”

The TikToker nods eagerly. “Super quick! Thank you so much!”

Max’s mother, Sophie, materializes beside you before you can even turn back to the kids. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on them,” she says warmly. “You go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

Sophie waves a hand. “Of course. We’ll stay right here.”

Reassured, you follow the TikToker a few steps away, keeping the kids in your line of sight as the camera starts rolling. She asks about life as part of a racing family, what it’s like juggling everything, and even sneaks in a cheeky question about whether you think Max or Charles is faster.

You laugh, answering her questions as best as you can, but your attention keeps flicking back to Lukas and Leni. They’re sitting with Sophie, but a flash of orange catches your eye, and you see someone kneeling in front of them, grinning. Your stomach drops when you realize it’s Lando Norris, holding out what appears to be a chocolate bar.

By the time you wrap up the interview and return to the kids, Lando is gone, and Max and Charles are back from their team duties. The kids are bouncing with excitement, but something seems … off.

“Where did you get that?” Charles asks, pointing to the bright orange cap perched on Lukas’ head.

Max’s jaw drops. “Is that McLaren merch?”

Lukas beams. “Do you like it?” He gestures to his T-shirt, which features McLaren’s logo in bold black and papaya across the front. Leni twirls to show off her matching cap and scarf.

Max puts a hand to his chest, staggering back dramatically. “I can’t believe this. Our own children. Betraying us.”

Charles crosses his arms, giving Lukas an exaggerated glare. “What did we do wrong? Was it something we said? Something we did?”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head as you crouch to Leni’s level. “How did this happen? We were raising Red Bull and Ferrari fans!”

Leni giggles, her smile wide and bright, but you notice something unusual — a faint smear of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. Frowning, you reach out to wipe it away with your thumb. “What’s this?”

Max’s eyes narrow. “Chocolate? Where did you get chocolate?”

Leni freezes, her eyes going wide like she’s just been caught. Lukas, sensing danger, jumps in quickly. “We didn’t get chocolate. Nope. No chocolate.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because it looks a lot like chocolate.”

Charles kneels down beside Lukas. “Tell the truth, mon petit. Did someone give you candy?”

Lukas shakes his head firmly. “Nope. No candy.”

But Leni, blissfully unaware of her brother’s attempt to cover their tracks, nods enthusiastically. “Lando gave us sooooo much candy!”

You gasp, trying not to laugh. “Lando?”

“Lando!” Leni repeats, still grinning. “He said we have to cheer for McLaren now. He gave us these hats and shirts, too!”

Max stares at her, slack-jawed. “He bribed you? With chocolate?”

Charles leans back, laughing despite himself. “I knew Lando was sneaky, but this …”

Max, however, is not laughing. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, pacing a few steps away before turning back to face the kids. “You betrayed us for candy?”

“It was good candy!” Leni defends, crossing her arms in defiance.

Lukas looks sheepish, pulling at the brim of his cap. “It was a lot of candy …”

Max throws his hands up. “First McLaren merch, now this. What’s next? Mercedes?”

Charles smirks. “Careful, Max. If Toto hears about this, he might send over cupcakes.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t think the kids even know what a bribe is. They were just excited.”

“Exactly!” Leni says, nodding vigorously. “And Lando is nice!”

Max sighs, crouching down to meet Leni’s gaze. “Listen, princess. You can like Lando, but you’re not allowed to switch teams. Okay? Red Bull and Ferrari are the only acceptable teams in this house.”

“And no more taking candy from drivers,” Charles adds, his tone firm but playful. “Especially if it’s Lando.”

Leni pouts. “Not even a little candy?”

“Not even a little,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “Besides, the caterer made your favorite treats. Remember?”

Their eyes light up, and the McLaren drama is momentarily forgotten as you hand over the brownies. Lukas takes a big bite of his, mumbling a happy “Mmm” through a mouthful of fudge.

Max shakes his head, still looking slightly betrayed. “I’m going to have words with Lando. Bribing our children …”

Charles grins, wrapping an arm around Max’s shoulders. “Think of it this way. At least they didn’t run straight to Mercedes.”

“Yet,” Max mutters, glaring at Lukas’ orange cap.

You laugh, watching as Lukas offers Leni a bite of his dessert. Despite the chaos, the sight of your family — all five of you together, happy and healthy — makes your heart feel full.

***

Ten Years Later

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon at home, the kind of day that feels rare amidst the usual whirlwind of racing, school, and travel. The living room is bathed in soft sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up on the couch with a book, while Max and Charles are in the kitchen, bickering good-naturedly over who makes the better omelet.

Lukas and Leni are sprawled across the floor nearby, surrounded by textbooks and laptops, pretending to study but clearly more interested in each other’s company. Leni’s hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, her feet propped up on a throw pillow, while Lukas is lying on his stomach, tapping a pen against his notebook.

“Do you think,” Leni begins, breaking the silence, “that people become like their parents? Even when they’re not, you know, biologically related?”

You glance up from your book, curious. “What makes you ask that?”

Leni shrugs, but there’s a playful glint in her eye. “Because Lukas has your stubborn face.”

Lukas looks up, feigning offense. “What stubborn face?”

“That one!” Leni says, pointing at him and grinning. “The one you’re making right now.”

“That’s not stubborn,” Lukas protests, though his furrowed brow and set jaw suggest otherwise. “It’s just … concentration.”

“Sure,” Leni teases, dragging out the word. “You do it all the time. Especially when Vati tells you to clean your room.”

You laugh, closing your book. “I hate to admit it, but she’s right, Lukas. You do have my stubborn face.”

Lukas groans, flopping onto his back dramatically. “Great. Now I’ll never hear the end of it.”

From the kitchen, Max’s voice rings out. “What’s this about Lukas inheriting something from you?”

Leni twists around, calling back, “His stubbornness! It’s practically genetic.”

Max appears in the doorway, holding a spatula, his eyebrows raised. “Oh, definitely. But he’s got my competitive streak, too.”

Lukas sits up, crossing his arms. “How do I have your competitive streak?”

Charles joins Max, wiping his hands on a towel. “Because you turned folding laundry into a race with Leni last week. And you were genuinely upset when you lost.”

“That’s because she cheated!” Lukas argues, pointing at Leni, who bursts out laughing.

“I didn’t cheat! I’m just faster than you.”

“You shoved my pile off the couch!”

“It fell!”

Max leans against the doorframe, smirking. “See? Competitive.”

Lukas mutters something under his breath, but the corners of his mouth lift in a reluctant smile.

Leni turns her attention back to you. “And I think I got Papa’s ... what’s the word? Dramatic tendencies.”

Charles places a hand over his chest, feigning shock. “Moi? Dramatic?”

You snort. “Charles, you once said the grocery store running out of your favorite cheese was a personal attack.”

“It was a personal attack,” he says, deadpan, which only makes everyone laugh harder.

Leni grins, leaning forward eagerly. “See? I’m dramatic like him. Remember when I fell during P.E. last week and told my teacher I’d never walk again?”

“I do remember,” you say, shaking your head. “And I also remember getting a very concerned phone call from the school about it.”

Leni shrugs, unrepentant. “It worked. They let me skip the rest of class.”

Lukas rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky you didn’t get detention.”

“I’m lucky I inherited Papa’s charm,” Leni counters, flashing a smug smile.

“You mean his overconfidence,” Lukas quips, and Charles gasps in mock outrage.

Max chuckles, stepping fully into the room and sitting on the armrest of your couch. “You both definitely picked up things from us. But it’s not just the big stuff, you know. It’s the little things, too.”

“Like what?” Leni asks, tilting her head.

Max gestures toward Lukas. “The way you bite your nails when you’re nervous? That’s all me. I used to do it so much when I was younger, my mom had to put gross-tasting polish on my fingers to make me stop.”

Lukas looks at his hands, startled. “I do not bite my nails.”

“You do,” Leni says, nodding solemnly. “All the time. Especially before exams.”

“Great,” Lukas mutters. “Now I’m going to be self-conscious about it.”

Charles points at Leni. “And the way you tap your foot when you’re waiting for something? That’s definitely me. I used to do it all the time before races when I started karting.”

“I do not tap my foot-” Leni starts, but she stops mid-sentence, catching herself as her foot bounces against the floor. Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, I do.”

Lukas smirks. “See? You’re not as perfect as you think.”

Leni sticks her tongue out at him, but there’s no malice in it. “At least I didn’t inherit Vati’s terrible taste in music.”

“Hey!” Max protests. “What’s wrong with my music?”

“Everything,” Leni says, grinning. “You play the same three songs on repeat every time we’re in the car.”

“They’re classics!”

“They’re old.”

“They’re timeless,” Max insists, turning to you for backup. “Tell her.”

You shrug, hiding a smile. “I don’t want to get involved.”

Charles grins, sitting on the floor next to Leni. “It’s okay, Max. At least she didn’t say you passed on your terrible cooking skills.”

Max glares at him. “You’re one to talk. Remember the time you burned spaghetti?”

“It was one time!”

“Burned spaghetti?” Lukas echoes, looking genuinely impressed. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s a talent,” Max says, smirking.

Leni laughs, leaning against Charles. “See? We’ve got the best parts of all of you. Except the bad cooking. That we avoided.”

You watch them, your heart swelling. It’s moments like these that remind you how deeply your family has grown together over the years. Despite not sharing blood, there’s no denying the ways Lukas and Leni have absorbed pieces of you, Max, and Charles — through habits, quirks, and inside jokes that only make sense within the four walls of your home.

“Do you ever wish you remembered what you got from your biological parents?” You ask softly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

Leni and Lukas exchange a glance, their playful banter momentarily replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful.

“Sometimes,” Leni admits. “Like, when people ask where my freckles come from, I wonder if my mother had them too.”

Lukas nods. “Or when I see someone really tall and think maybe my father was tall. Stuff like that.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Leni adds quickly, looking at you, Max, and Charles in turn. “Because we’re like you. In all the ways that count.”

“And we wouldn’t change it,” Lukas says, his voice steady.

You feel your throat tighten, and when you glance at Max and Charles, you see the same emotion mirrored in their eyes. Max reaches out to ruffle Lukas’ hair, while Charles pulls Leni into a side hug, kissing the top of her head.

“We wouldn’t change it either,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

“Not for anything,” Charles adds.

Leni leans into him, smiling up at Max. “Even if you do have bad taste in music.”

Max groans, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll let that slide. This time.”

Lukas grins, leaning back against the couch. “See? We’ve got the best family.”

Leni nods in agreement, and for a moment, the room is filled with a comfortable, loving silence — the kind that only exists in the presence of people who truly know and understand each other.

[adlibitur]

Begging y'all to stop acting like you can just remove organs with no negative consequences.

Hysterectomy is associated with new mental health conditions, increased cardiovascular and metabolic morbidity, trouble with ovarian function (2), incontinence increases, pelvic organ fistulas, heart disease, increased cancer risk, increased overall worse outcomes, and more.

Oophorectomy before natural menopause is associated with multiple conditions including accelerated aging even without pre-existing conditions, negative effects on long term health, it has significant neurodegenerative effects (2 & 3 & 4), ovarian conservation is important to mortality rates (2), substantial cardiovascular risk, it does NOT cure endometriosis, it associated with even causing chronic fatigue, just to name a few. Even the menopause society themselves have advised against their removal before natural menopause because of how substantial the negative effects on the body are.

[spencerreids-wifey]

𝐈 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | 𝐒.𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

Category: Angst, fluff

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warning: infertility issues

Summary: After a whole year of trying for a baby and being left with nothing, reader goes to the hospital for answers only to get bad news, Spencer later than comforts her after she blames herself.

You were seated on the couch in the living room of you and Spencer's apartment. The tv was on, but you weren't listening to a word that was being said. You just quietly sat, replaying the words that the doctor had said to you earlier.

"So I've run some tests, multiple actually." Your doctor said as she came into the room, closing the door behind her. She looked down at the papers in her hand.

With hope, you looked at her. "And?"

She cleared her throat and hesitated for a bit before she spoke. "I'm sorry, but results show that you have a primary ovarian insufficiency."

You just looked at her with confusion, "I- I don't know what that means, what does that mean?"

"It means that, unfortunately, your ovaries aren't functioning the way they should, and your body isn't producing enough eggs for conception."

Your lips parted, and you let out a breath. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Primary ovarian insufficiency?" She repeated quietly, more to herself than to the doctor.

"I want to let you know that this is common and can happen for numerous reasons." The doctor looked at you, giving you a pity look. "Generic factors, autoimmune conditions, or sometimes there isn't a a clear cause."

Listening to her talk, you felt the inside of you shatter, but you didn't want to break down in front of her. "Thank you." You mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Reid." The doctor frowned and added. "Do know that there are plenty of ways to-"

You shook your head. "Don't..please."

The drive home was a blur, the world outside your car window smearing together in muted shades of gray.

You barely remembered unlocking the door to your shared apartment, your mind consumed with one thought: How am I supposed to tell Spencer?

Having kids was something you and Spencer had talked about before you even got married.

You saw how his eyes lit up at the thought of having kids of his own, the way he'd interact with Henry and Michael, and it warmed your heart, and you wanted nothing more than to bless him with the opportunity to be a Dad.

But now that was just a mere dream, a dream that would never happen, because of you.

That's when you heard Spencer's key from outside, and he opened the door, stepping inside and setting his bag off and closing the door behind him.

Immediately, he went over to you, leaned down, and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, sweetie."

You didn't answer, and that's when Spencer got a good look at the expression that was held on your face, and he knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

You looked up at, your heart pounding and tears welled up, threatening to spill, and Spencer was in front of you in an instant, his hands gently resting on your arms.

"Sweetheart?" He prompted softly.

"I went to the doctors..." You mumbled.

Spencer's expression softened, before he left to go on his case you had mentioned how you wanted to go to the doctors and get some tests ran, he knew it bothered you that for a whole year the two of you had been trying for a baby, only to be disappointed every time.

"And?" He sat down next to you on the sofa.

That's when tears rolled down her face. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Spence-"

Spencer frowned and his hand came up to your face and he calmly spoke. "Hey..hey...talk to me."

"I'm sorry, I'll never be able to give you kids."

The silence that followed felt deafening. You kept your eyes on the floor, bracing yourself for his reaction, for disappointment, for anything.

Then, without hesitation, he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair and he sighed. “I know how much this meant to you.”

You broke then, burying your face in his chest as sobs wracked your body. “I—I’m so sorry, Spence. I can’t give you kids. I know how much you wanted a family. I feel like I’ve failed you.”

His grip on you tightened, and he gently pulled back, cupping your face in his hands. “Hey, look at me,” he urged, his voice steady and reassuring.

When you finally met his gaze, you saw nothing but love in his warm hazel eyes.

“You haven’t failed me,” he said firmly to make sure you understood the words. “Not now, not ever. I don’t need anything else to be happy, sweetheart. You make me happy. All I need is you."

"But I know you’ve always wanted to be a dad,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“And I’ve always wanted you more,” he countered without missing a beat. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from the team, it’s that family isn’t always about blood. We can figure this out together—whether that means adoption or something else—or we can just be us. You’re everything I’ve ever needed, and that’s never going to change."

You looked up into his eyes and saw that he meant every word he was saying.

He wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. "You have given me so much. First off, all you let a loser like me take you out..."

You couldn't help but chuckle a bit at his words.

"And then you proceeded to give me the chance to call you my wife..." Spencer took your hand and smiled. "You've given me so much, and I appreciate you, and this....information doesn't change the way I see you or feel about you."

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, a faint smile breaking through your tears.

“Of course, you do,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I’m going to remind you of that every day if I have to.”

In that moment, you felt the weight on your shoulders begin to lift. You weren’t sure what the future held, but as long as you had Spencer by your side, you knew you’d be okay.

[theambitiouswoman]

I was wondering if you might have any tips for managing PCOS with insulin resistance. I recall reading that you were able to improve or even reverse your symptoms, and I would greatly appreciate any insights or advice you could share 🙏🏻

Hey!

Okay so here are a few suggestions

Eating more protein and fiber

Cut sugar and refined carbs and always pair carbs with protein to slow glucose absorption

Walking for 20 mins after your meals. Insulin spikes after meals, this normal, but with PCOS and insulin resistance, those spikes are more intense and prolonged

Spearmint tea at night especially if you are struggling with excess androgens (like facial hair, acne, or hair thinning)

Micro greens have a very high concentration of sulforaphane which lowers DHT (a form of testosterone that worsens PCOS symptoms), detoxes used estrogen from the body and is very anti inflammatory

Inositol plays a key role in insulin sensitivity, ovarian function and can restore ovulation. Your body needs this for mood, hormone balancing and blood sugar control

Magnesium before bed helps manage cortisol and relax muscles

Eat more probiotic rich foods (yogurt, kimchi, sauerkraut)

Raw carrots have unique fibers that bind to excess estrogen and toxins in the gut, helping the body eliminate them

ACV can improve insulin sensitivity and reduce the blood sugar spike after meals. I took and still take an ACV concoction in the mornings. I can post it here if interested

Cut off anyone who stresses you out and sleep more (seriously)

this is not medical advice :)

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

by Lydia Wilkins

“Come back to me when you start wanting children,” my gynecologist said. I had asked about the implications on fertility, thanks to my Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) diagnosis — and was dismissed once again. It enveloped me with such despair.

For over two years I was shunted between varying medical offices, from primary care to an STI clinic. Among many disabling symptoms, I was experiencing hair loss and excessive hair growth along my jawline since my SARS-C0V-2 infection. After developing Long COVID in March 2022, doctors considered me a “medical curiosity” and tested me endlessly, leading to wrong diagnosis after wrong diagnosis. I was prescribed medication after medication, but nothing seemed to help.

Eventually, I added another diagnosis to my chart when I was diagnosed with PCOS by a gynecologist. The hormonal condition is lifelong, presenting with symptoms such as excessive hair, hair loss, fatigue, and irregular periods. The World Health Organization recognizes PCOS as a leading cause of infertility; you are also at risk of other conditions such as diabetes. The gynecologist additionally said there was a possibility that I have endometriosis, in which tissue from the uterus grows in places where it should not be. Endometriosis is recognized for extreme levels of life-impacting pain and is also associated with infertility.

The impact of Long COVID on sexual health is still not fully known, but there are serious signs of sexual and reproductive health being impacted. To be a disabled woman who has to advocate for herself, with the research, in the face of medical indifference is beyond exhausting. At every stage, I have correctly diagnosed myself, while specialists would play “catch-up.”

Why are medical experts and public health officials not sounding the alarm, to warn the public about the impact of Long COVID on fertility?

Like COVID-19 which leaves inflammation in its wake, PCOS is also thought to be an inflammation-related condition. PCOS is primarily a hormonal condition that impacts an estimated one in ten women and may put you at higher risk of severe COVID-19, according to research. PCOS can also make it more difficult to get pregnant, or, like endometriosis, increase complications during pregnancy.

I still have so many questions, such as if there is anything I could do now to mitigate the chronic nature of PCOS. Yet, doctors continually fob off these questions, shrouding me in a patronizing expectation of “having to wait until you start having children,” as if once I am interested in children, I will gain admission to an elite secret club of better care.

The UK campaigning group Long COVID Kids has documented the wider impact of Long COVID on reproductive health — such as changes to menstruation and triggering menopause. The same post also points to a study of the negative impact on ovarian function, along with other triggered conditions such as ovarian cysts.

A Patient-Led Research Collaborative review also found that women with Long Covid had increased rates of reproductive health issues — including, but not limited to, endometriosis, infertility, ovarian cysts, and other conditions. The review also mentioned another condition I am waiting to be tested for, after two years of misdiagnosis — POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome). Why are these conditions not considered in tandem with each other, to save time and needless testing that causes nothing but distress?

We also know that COVID-19 tends to disrupt menstruation, as well as “fertility potential.” COVID-19 impacts male fertility, too, reducing sperm counts even after mild infections and causing erectile dysfunction. Some people with Long COVID are opting out of having children altogether, because of the strain of delivery and childbearing to the body, or because of the inability to raise or financially support a child.

Before catching COVID-19, I was bouncy, energetic, and socially confident. I had never had any notable health issues; now, my hair falls out in clumps, enough that my hairdresser has adapted to hide the thinning hairline. Excessive hair growth dominates my jawline and eyebrows. There’s also acne, dark spots of skin, and tense bloating warranting “she’s pregnant!” commentary from friends, family, and colleagues. There are few resources on how to cope with such an overwhelming diagnosis and aftermath.

I have been disabled from birth — but attempting to access reproductive healthcare with Long COVID has been a rough learning experience. Thanks to a litany of traumatic experiences when seeking relief from Long COVID, I am now obliged to take a chaperone with me to all medical appointments. Medical professionals speak to my chaperone as if they are the patient — “what can I do to help?”

We are told we have to trust medical professionals — but that trust is a privilege not afforded to disabled people in healthcare settings.

I, in turn, am the “sweetheart” spoken at with “the voice.” Disabled people everywhere know it — slow and childlike, patronizing and loud. I am not afforded dignity or privacy as a result. Other professionals have asked for free disability education instead of discussing my symptoms; it’s an inappropriate presumption, as well as beyond bitterly distressing.

My care was also marked by desexualization, or being reduced to the presumed state of a child. Doctors assumed, “she’s disabled — so she won’t be interested in any of that,” as Lucy Webster documented in her book, The View From Down Here.

Disabled women learn to suppress our anger to achieve any kind of diagnostic result, never “speaking to” the weighted horror. We have dreams, too — but they are tempered by societal commentary, both inside and outside a medical setting. I used to dream of an ordinary life, maybe a life of growing old with a partner, a house, a family in some way. Now, I realize it would be a privilege to not be questioned about these wants or to not be subject to constant commentary.

Women have long been advocating for better reproductive healthcare in the Western world; PCOS has long been misunderstood, with treatment often merely consisting of being told, “just lose weight.” A lack of curiosity has written off reproductive healthcare as only “a woman’s issue” for far too long.

More research on the emerging connection between reproductive health and Long COVID is needed, as is a deliberate culture shift in any caring profession. That can only start with education aimed at ending ingrained stigma. Health is a collective concept — and if we forget that, the pandemic has taught us nothing.

[nikky-the-writer]

Last Chance

Part 5

Masterlist

Summary:

When Reader finished high school she was diagnosed with early stage of ovarian cancer. She put everything on hold to have a baby before it was too late, so she took a sperm donor. Now years later said sperm donor wants to meet his daughter and Reader is against it as she doesn’t know him, to her he was only a picture on the paper.- Modern AU

A/N: It's been a long, long, long, long, long time, but here is a short little thing I wrote

_____________________________________________________________

Time stood for a few moments after Aslaug left your room. Her words touched your heart, but you had to remind yourself that your heart was no longer just yours, but that it belonged to your daughter as well. You could empathize with Aslaug as a mother. There were no vile words in anything she said and that made you even more suspicious. It bothered you how she seemingly left her son’s happiness in a stranger’s hands. You would have never done such a thing to your daughter. You would fight until your last breath to secure her happiness. Because of that fact, you were more than sure that Aslaug lied to you. You felt the love she had for her son and there was nothing that would stop her from destroying your happiness for him.

With only one thing on your mind, you hired a lawyer. You needed to know what you could do to protect your daughter, no matter if you would have to drag Ivar through the mud. After everything was done you had what you needed to fight for her legally, but still, you decided to wait until Ivar or Aslaug made their move. And you waited and waited. Months passed, and you healed completely. Your daughter grew and as time went by, there were no signs of disturbances around you. It even made you wonder if perhaps they were no longer bothered by you, that maybe he had realized that it would be easier to have a child with somebody else. All of those thoughts helped you breathe again. You could not relax entirely, however you were no longer on the edge, as you were ready if they ever appear again. Or so you have thought; as to what happened you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. Nothing could have prepared you for the first time your daughter broke your heart. With one simple word, she reminded you of one thing that you took away from her. The moment you heard her curious voice you were left in shock. Your body couldn’t move and your brain stopped functioning. You had to wonder what you have done in your past life to deserve such a betrayal. With hurried steps, your sisters took the child from your hands giving you an opportunity for an easy escape and you took it. You rushed down the hallway and slipped inside your daughter’s room. After grazing the soft pillow with the tips of your fingers you grabbed her favorite plushy. There was no strength left in your body to carry you to the chair, you just collapsed onto the ground. Sobs escaped past your lips as you inhaled your daughter's scent. You were no longer sure if you were broken because you took away the possibility of your daughter having her biological father in her life or that she would hate you for it. It seemed that Ivar was no longer the only one who wanted a relationship with his daughter. Just moments ago, she was calling out for him during her small birthday party. It was as if she was searching for him in the crowd only to start screaming and crying after not seeing him. What were you to do, you could not answer. But before you knew it your feet dragged you to the building where Ivar worked. You sat on the stone bench close to the entrance still in your slippers and the plushy in your hands. You left everything else at home, even forgetting a sweater. The wind was chilly against your skin and you could feel it creeping up your spine. With minutes passing by coldness sipped deep to your bones. Yet, you refused to move even after two hours had passed. And when the third hour started approaching you saw him heading towards the building. You noticed the way his eyes got wider after spotting you. You couldn’t blame him as almost half a year has passed. You let a soft scoff when he recomposed himself and headed inside the building as if you were nothing but an inconvenience. You couldn’t explain it, but your eyes got teary again and in that moment you gathered enough strength to stand up and go back home to your growing daughter who will never understand why you did what you did, or how you wished for her life to be easy with no disappointments. You couldn’t let her suffer the same fate as you have through your whole childhood; you had to do better for her.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thank you for reading! I copied the old tag list...it was late, don't judge me!

Tag list:

@imcreepininyourheartbabe

@demonlover87

@gruffle1

@listening-to-music

@caitsymichelle13

@madithemagicalfangirl

@imcreepininyourheartbabe

@acacheofstrange

@readsalot73

@weirdnewbie

@iamwarrenspeace

@littlepanda-love

@imeannooffensebabybut

@alyse45

@wxderfull

@ally22042000

@asenseofadventure

@irishhiggins

@titty-teetee

@ballerinafairyprincess

@radi0active-thoughts

@fuckthatfeeling

@the-greatest-1919

@therealwaysanotherday

@no-fate-but-what-we-make

@som3thingcr3ative

@httpmcrvel

@mblaqgi

@sammat97

@cute-freak27

@cecedofficial

@cutiepiepotatoes

@flowers-in-your-hayr

@thatsamegirl

@cbouvier23

@soleil-dor

@cynthianokamaria

[mpreglover225]

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins—Understanding Conception in Expectant Fathers

Introduction

Embarking on the journey to parenthood is an exciting and transformative experience. For expectant fathers, understanding the intricacies of conception is the first step towards a healthy and fulfilling pregnancy. This chapter delves into the biological processes of male fertility, the various methods of conception—including natural intercourse, artificial insemination, and in vitro fertilization (IVF)—and the significance of the monthly heat cycle when ovulation occurs.

The Male Reproductive System: An Overview

Anatomy and Physiology

Understanding your body is essential for maximizing fertility and achieving conception.

Testes: Produce sperm and the hormone testosterone.

Ovaries (Male Ovaries): Specialized organs that release eggs (ova) during the heat cycle.

Heat Cycle: A monthly period of increased fertility when ovulation occurs.

Uterus (Male Uterus): The organ where a fertilized egg implants and develops into a fetus.

Anal Canal: Serves as the birth canal during delivery.

Hormonal Regulation

Testosterone: Influences sperm production and libido.

Estrogen and Progesterone: Regulate the heat cycle and prepare the uterus for pregnancy.

Luteinizing Hormone (LH) and Follicle-Stimulating Hormone (FSH): Control the release of eggs during ovulation.

The Heat Cycle: Timing is Everything

Understanding Ovulation

The heat cycle is a critical window for conception.

Duration: Typically lasts 5-7 days each month.

Ovulation: Occurs mid-cycle, releasing a mature egg ready for fertilization.

Signs of Heat:

Increased body temperature.

Heightened libido.

Mild abdominal discomfort.

Clear cervical mucus discharge.

Tracking Your Cycle

Calendar Method: Mark the start and end of each heat cycle to predict ovulation.

Basal Body Temperature: Measure daily temperature to detect the slight rise during ovulation.

Ovulation Predictor Kits: Detect LH surge indicating imminent ovulation.

Monitoring Symptoms: Be attentive to physical and emotional changes.

Natural Conception: The Traditional Path

Sexual Intercourse During Heat

Engaging in sexual activity during your heat cycle increases the likelihood of conception.

Optimal Timing: 1-2 days before and after ovulation.

Frequency: Regular intercourse every other day during the fertile window.

Positions for Conception:

Positions that allow deep penetration may facilitate sperm reaching the egg.

Remain lying down for 15-20 minutes post-intercourse to aid sperm travel.

Factors Affecting Fertility

Lifestyle Choices:

Nutrition: A balanced diet rich in vitamins and minerals supports reproductive health.

Exercise: Regular physical activity promotes hormonal balance but avoid excessive training.

Substance Use: Limit alcohol and avoid smoking or recreational drugs.

Health Conditions:

Hormonal Imbalances: Can affect ovulation and sperm quality.

Chronic Illnesses: Conditions like diabetes or thyroid disorders may impact fertility.

Medications: Certain prescriptions can interfere with reproductive function.

Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART)

When natural conception is challenging, assisted methods offer alternative pathways to parenthood.

Artificial Insemination (AI)

Overview: Sperm is collected and directly inserted into the reproductive tract during ovulation.

Types:

Intrauterine Insemination (IUI): Sperm placed directly into the uterus.

Intracervical Insemination (ICI): Sperm deposited near the cervical opening.

Procedure:

Performed in a clinical setting by a healthcare professional.

Sperm can be from a partner or a donor.

Success Rates: Vary based on age, fertility issues, and sperm quality.

In Vitro Fertilization (IVF)

Overview: Eggs and sperm are combined outside the body, and the resulting embryo is implanted into the uterus.

Procedure:

Ovarian Stimulation: Medications stimulate multiple eggs to mature.

Egg Retrieval: Eggs are collected using a minor surgical procedure.

Fertilization: Eggs are combined with sperm in a lab.

Embryo Transfer: One or more embryos are placed into the uterus.

Considerations:

Time Commitment: IVF requires multiple clinic visits and procedures.

Emotional Impact: The process can be emotionally taxing; support is essential.

Cost: IVF can be expensive; explore insurance coverage and financing options.

Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSI)

Overview: A single sperm is injected directly into an egg during IVF.

Indications: Used when there are sperm quality or quantity issues.

Procedure: Similar to IVF with the additional step of sperm injection.

Preparing for Conception

Preconception Health Check

Medical Evaluation:

Visit a healthcare provider for a comprehensive health assessment.

Discuss medical history, medications, and any chronic conditions.

Fertility Testing:

Semen Analysis: Evaluates sperm count, motility, and morphology.

Hormonal Tests: Measures levels of testosterone, FSH, LH, estrogen, and progesterone.

Ultrasound Examination: Assesses the reproductive organs for any abnormalities.

Lifestyle Modifications

Nutrition:

Increase intake of folic acid, zinc, selenium, and antioxidants.

Consume plenty of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins.

Exercise:

Engage in moderate physical activity to maintain a healthy weight.

Stress Management:

Practice relaxation techniques like yoga, meditation, or deep-breathing exercises.

Avoid Environmental Toxins:

Limit exposure to pesticides, heavy metals, and endocrine-disrupting chemicals.

Supplements and Vitamins

Prenatal Vitamins:

Start taking prenatal vitamins at least three months before attempting conception.

Omega-3 Fatty Acids:

Support hormonal balance and fetal development.

Consult a Healthcare Provider:

Before starting any supplement regimen.

Emotional and Psychological Preparation

Communication with Your Partner

Shared Goals:

Discuss family planning desires and expectations.

Emotional Support:

Be open about feelings, fears, and hopes.

Intimacy:

Maintain a strong emotional and physical connection.

Coping with Challenges

Infertility Concerns:

Acknowledge that conception may take time.

Seek professional counseling if needed.

Managing Expectations:

Understand that each journey to parenthood is unique.

Building a Support Network

Family and Friends:

Share your plans with trusted individuals.

Support Groups:

Join communities of other expectant fathers or couples trying to conceive.

Professional Guidance:

Consult fertility specialists, counselors, and reproductive endocrinologists.

Conclusion

Understanding the process of making a baby empowers expectant fathers to take proactive steps towards achieving pregnancy. Whether through natural conception during the heat cycle or utilizing assisted reproductive technologies, being informed about your options and preparing both physically and emotionally are crucial components of this journey. Remember, patience and persistence are key, and seeking support along the way can make the experience more rewarding and less daunting.

Key Takeaways

Know Your Cycle: Understanding your heat cycle enhances your ability to conceive.

Healthy Lifestyle: Nutrition, exercise, and avoiding harmful substances improve fertility.

Explore Options: Familiarize yourself with both natural and assisted conception methods.

Emotional Preparedness: Open communication and emotional support are vital.

Professional Guidance: Regular consultations with healthcare providers ensure optimal care.

[yourfaveisintersex]

Cyrus Suryc from the fangame Danganronpa: Lapse is intersex and transmasculine CAFAB, and his variations are Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) and Non-classic Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (NCAH)! He is also canonically asexual and homoromantic!

Requested by @comospite + art in second edit belongs to him

Intersex flag-only and popular transmasc flag edits under the cut, along with a response to the ask!

Okay so first of all never be scared to ramble in my asks ever ok? I love people sharing what they love it's very enriching to me genuinely. Secondly and this is at no detriment to you however I DO wanna clear up a little potential misinformation in your verbiage;

"... specifically PCOS/NCAH (since theyre virtually identical. [...]" 🚨🚨🚨 WRONG! THEY ARE NOT THE SAME THING!!! PCOS and NCAH, while they can PRESENT functionally identical, are two different conditions that affect different parts of the body (PCOS the ovaries, and is a syndrome AKA a collection of comorbid symptoms with no known cause, NCAH the adrenal glands, and is considered a disorder AKA a collection of common symptoms WITH an identified cause) and have different health implications. (N)CAH can cause PCOS (it ((N)CAH) often results in ovarian cysts anywho) and the two are often comorbid, but isolated PCOS can't cause (N)CAH since THAT has an identified cause— being the wonky adrenal gland function lol

I got a little help from an acquaintance in the InterSpace server (thanks nao 🫶) to drop these links because I feel like some elaboration on "different health implications" here is necessary, so here's a website talking more about CAH's health challenges (link), and a study discussing the health effects of PCOS (link)!

[bomberqueen17]

home

This is the time of year when it's hardest to live in two places. I've been at the farm for three weeks now, and I was going to go home yesterday, but today is the memorial service for a friend who helped us with chickens for a decade and whose daughter is a close friend of Farmkid and who was taken too soon by ovarian cancer. She didn't want a dreary funeral, everyone is to wear bright colors, and the afterparty is that we're planting a garden in her memory at the library with donated plants from dozens of volunteers. It's raining, but all the better for the plants really.

I want to be home in Buffalo, but I couldn't miss this.

While I was gone, Dude was offered a job, which he decided to take, and put in and worked his notice, and now has already had his last day, and will be starting the new job on Monday. I was thinking the sensible thing to do would be to go home tomorrow morning but I might go home tonight just so I can see him a bit longer before he starts his job, I am sure he has a lot he wants to talk about. We don't really do phone calls, we just text and one of us inevitably wanders off before the conversation is really over, so.

Yeah I might get myself ready this morning, and then leave after the garden planting. We'll see how it looks. I don't need to elaborately put the cabin to bed because I'll be back next weekend.

Though! In cabin doings-- I have electricity now! For years I've used an extension cord from the greenhouse, but they took down that greenhouse and removed the wiring, so i was without any power at all for the beginning of this season. But BIL wanted to put power over here correctly, so he dug a trench and buried a power cable and a water line. The water line isn't hooked up to anything yet, that's a project for later, but I don't have a sink anyway-- the one I had in here last year was stolen from the other cabin on the property, which had been unoccupied, but now there are two people living in it voluntarily for some reason, and so I gave them their sink back and I have to buy/find myself a countertop, I already have a double-bay stainless sink salvaged from a barn, and I need to somehow build the support for the countertop, and then I can have back the function I had last year-- no running water, but a drain, which until you haven't had one you don't realize how much that matters-- and eventually when the water line gets hooked up I could have actual running water. So.

Anyway. On Wednesday BIL stole some time away from a different important task and hooked up the power. So now I actually have real power, not extension cord power, and I can run an electric kettle. I could have a fridge too if i wanted but like, I don't know if I need one? I don't plan to cook out here. It's not that kind of place. But I'm really enjoying being able to make tea, even though it's not cold anymore.

My sister also decided to throw out the foam pads from the collapsible beds of the pop-up camper they owned that has since become largely unusable, and I snagged those and now my sleeping loft is properly a pillow fort. I need to make or buy or find some kind of cover, I stacked the two pads and they're covered in ancient scratchy upholstery fabric and they're also not a standard bed size so I need to work something out. (52"x67", what even is that???) but they're soft enough to sleep on and mostly I figure they're for lounging.

I still haven't gotten the cabin entirely out of Winter Mode, though. All my clothing stuff is shoved against the south wall with sheets over it, leaving the stacked lumber along the north wall free in case someone had free time to finish the ceiling. But I think I can safely cover that back over now that the season is started. (It apparently almost happened several times this winter so it wasnt' as silly as it sounds.)

I did steal an hour yesterday and borrowed the electric weed whacker and knocked down all the tall grass around my cabin, so I don't have to bushwhack my way to the outhouse anymore. I should follow that up by laying down cardboard sheets and wood chip mulch to start converting the space to garden, but I don't have time if I'm leaving today. Theres even plants I could put in, today, if I did, but-- it's raining, and I don't have wood chips, and and and. well... A week from now those plants won't be on offer anymore, they won't survive, so maybe I'll run out in an hour or so in the rain and at least get the cardboard put down and punch some holes in it to put the seedlings through, and weigh it down with rocks so I can wood-chip it when I get back.

Anyway. I want to be back in Buffalo but I don't want to leave here, I have a lot going on and want to keep working. LOL funny how this works.

[mommahughes19-23]

Even Though I'm Leaving - E.E

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of cancer, grief, DO NOT READ IF THIS WOULD TRIGGER YOU!

Based off of attached song/my personal journey fighting cancer!

"SHES FUCKING GONE DUDE - SHE'S GONE AND I CAN'T BRING HER BACK." Ethan screams out as he clutches the #73 jersey he had got you for your senior prom gift, the summer before you would both start at UMICH.

6 months, 26 weeks, 182 days, 4,380 hours, 26,280 minutes, 15,768,000 seconds ;

that's how long Ethan has been hurting ; how long his world has been flipped upside-down for ; how long he hasn't been able to properly function as a human being, including basic tasks. Who could blame him though... most importantly it had been 6 months to the day that you had left this world. You and Ethan had met your junior year of high school, you had transferred that year to Bellerose Composite High School, Ethan being the first person you met as he was in most of your classes. He was also the one out of his friend group to suggest you sit with them at lunch, and by the time junior prom rolled around it had been 6 months with Ethan and you knew then he was the one.

Unfortunately that was also the year that things took a HUGE turn, as that would be the same year that you had been diagnosed with stage 2 ovarian cancer. That was also the first time in your entire time knowing Ethan that you decided to shut him out. To text him and tell him unfortunately you had some stuff come up and wouldn't be around much for a little while. To say Ethan was confused and hurt when he tried to call you minutes after reading that text and you sent him straight to voicemail, he decided he would give you time. Meanwhile your brother and him texted all the time and you could see what toll it was taking on him to have to keep your condition from Ethan.

"Sweetie, you're going to have to face him sooner or later." your mom says from the other side of your room door. Since getting the news you had began to isolate yourself more and more, there was no point in trying anymore when you weren't sure how long you had to try. "Well I choose later thanks, now if I can get back to planning what flowers I want on my headstone that would be great." you respond back. "Sweetie, I had to tell Tara and Lee. I-" You swung the door open "YOU WHAT? What the FUCK MOM???? I told you not to say anything before I was ready." you half screamed half sobbed. "Sweetie, they are worried about you, you haven't been over there in a week, Ethan is barley eating or sleeping, I didn't know what to do when they asked the other evening at dinner." she responds. "Wait what do you mean Ethan isn't sleeping or eating?" you ask "Sweetie, Ethan hasn't eaten a meal since you stopped responding to him, Tara says she's lucky to get him to even have a granola bar." she says. "I can't deal with this right now." you say closing the door in your moms face.

It was later that week you decided to break the news to Ethan.

It was during lunch on that Thursday you walked up to his usual table, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked at you, he wanted to be mad, to tell you to fuck off, that you had broken him by ghosting him. Yet after school there he found himself with you in your room. "E, I wanted to tell you, but I don't want to be a burden, and you have hockey and I don't want-" With tears streaming down both of your cheeks Ethan pulls you in for a kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more, but you know it's not the time. "Baby, we are going to fight this, together, you are never a burden my angel, you have got this 100%." he says. “This will be just another obstacle we face, one that we will get to tell our grandchildren about.” he continues. “Because my love you are so strong, you will beat it. Promise.” he finishes as he interlocks pinkies with you, his way of showing you he’s truly here for the long run.

When it came down to discussing potential college opportunities for the both of you it was no question University of Michigan was where you two wanted to call home for the next 4 years. You being a gymnast received an offer to come on a scholarship and well to say they had been eyeing your boyfriend for as long as you had been attending his high school games is an understatement. Ethan could remember the day you both got your acceptance letters as if it was yesterday.

"E, did you check the mail????" you asked as you both walked toward Ethans' Alberta house. "How in the world would I have checked the mail if I have been at school with you all day?" he responded playfully. "Well you big bully, I got my acceptance/rejection letter yesterday and I want to open them together." you say pulling the sealed envelope out of your bag, prompting Ethan to grab your hand and pull you to move faster. "YOU GOT IT AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO CALL ME???? YOU DORK" he says playfully. As soon as you both get to the Edwards mailbox Ethan finds exactly what he is looking for. You and Ethan walk into the house, dropping your stuff by the front door and make a beeline toward Ethans room. Sitting down on his bed you count together and open the letters.

Your sophomore year at UMICH is when things started to go downhill. You ended up getting a small 3 bedroom place with Rutger and Marks girlfriends, Farrah and Kayleigh. For you it was a matter of declining health and the girls hated their roommates at the time. The girls had also been a big help at the games, specifically away games, helping you navigate stairs and such as you became weaker and weaker. So when Kay suggested maybe you would be more comfortable going through the chemotherapy process in a more private setting, you jumped at the opportunity. Ethan was basically living with the three of you by the time you were fully settled having him set up his very own drawers in the bathroom and your bedroom.

So here he was now, in that same bedroom almost a year since you two had shared it, surrounded by his hockey team and select significant others, with your jersey in hand. It had not started like that for him that day however, Ethan actually had no intention of going to your place, not that day and not any time in the near future. How was he supposed to dig through his soulmates personal items, items that held countless and priceless memories of how much her and Ethan truly loved each other. He couldn't, and he wouldn't, however when he received a text from Rutger and Luca saying everyone had a free day and the girls needed to start clearing space to sell the condo, he would be dammed if he let anyone else into your shared world. 2 hours later as the girls let them in saying their hellos he noticed a few of the other guys were already there. T.J, Dylan, Tyler, Mark, and Seamus all sitting on the couch.

"E, I- we know this is still really fresh and hard for you, but we are all going to be here for you ok?" Kayleigh says trying her best to be sympathetic but strong for her boyfriends best friend. Ethan looked up realizing he was being spoken to as Mark rests his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we can take as much time as you need dude. Do what you have to do man." Ethan leads the way into your room, a room that has been untouched by any human presence since your last day there. When you made the decision to leave UMICH, you had just gotten the news that it was now in stage 4 and there wasn't much to be done anymore. You decided to spend your last few weeks at home with your family without telling anyone, not Ethan, not the team, not the girls. You didn't want goodbyes, you didn't want to leave the world knowing how much it would truly hurt those you cared about. You also knew that if you told Ethan he would INSIST on being there by your side till the day you stopped fighting and you refused to be the reason he put his life on hold. You knew he would insist on trying to fight this more, to just try one more round of treatment, to try one more pill, at this point if someone told Ethan dancing the Macarena could cure you he would be doing it on repeat all day every day.

You were tired though, tired of all the chemotherapy, the physical toll it was taking on you, breaking you down into nothing, taking everything you love from you slowly. First gymnastics, then the promise of a life with your soulmate, and now the will to fight, you couldn't take this anymore. Needing help from the guys and girls as you got weaker and needed assistance of a wheelchair, you felt you had become a burden. So when Ethan went looking for you after not hearing from you the previous day, Farrah telling him you had gone to your 6pm class but never come back, his heart stopped. Where did you go? Were you ok? Had his worst fear come true?

He called you, 164 times that week, not knowing you were finally slipping away, not knowing that you had finally found your peace. Calling your parents, who couldn't bring themselves to answer, knowing why he was calling, it wasn't until he got the call from his mom that it was confirmed. You were gone. You had been gone 3 days after you left. The next few weeks were a blur between your funeral and all the condolences he was getting, he took a few weeks off of school to go home and be with your family and his.

"Yeah, uh thanks guys." he says making his way into your room. "We don't want to overwhelm you bro so we are gonna be out here. Let us know if you need anything." Luca says. With that Ethans head snaps up as he drops the stuffed animal he had picked up off the bed. "What- no you- wait I can't do this by myself." he starts feeling his chest get heavy and his lungs reduce in size. "I don't even know where to start or what to do you can't leave me." he begs. The boys look at each other and after silently letting the girls know they would be out in a little Rutger and Luca sit on your bed. Ethan begins by opening your closet, the overwhelming scent of your perfume, and just of you hits him like a brick. Noticing his lack of movement Luca and Rutger get up and walk towards him, "Take your time E, we are here for you." he says. Ethan begins to start taking your shirts off hangers and thats when he sees it, right under his team issued raincoat he had lent you once. The yellow and blue that could be seen from miles away catching his eye as if to almost taunt him, your jersey.

When you and Ethan had been accepted to UMICH you both received some goodie bags of gear from your respective sports programs. Ethan being the guy he is knew he needed to get you in his name and number ASAP so once he found out what number he was assigned, he jumped at the opportunity to plan with some of the guys to customize a blank jersey from the book store for you. Your senior prom Ethan had come over early, while you were still getting ready actually, his plan was to gift you the jersey before prom. Your parents being the way they are, they denied Ethan a peek before you were ready and he ended up having to give it to you in the limo. You had worn it to every single home and away game you attended which was all but maybe 2 games and Ethan couldn't feel prouder to see his name claim you in a subtle way.

Ethan presses the piece of clothing to his chest and silently begins to let the tears flow. "You know I told my parents I don’t think I am going to accept the offer from the Devils." he begins. "What are you saying dude??? Why would you tell them that?” Luca says. "Well without yn I’m nothing, I don't deserve to be happy or live out my dream when she's supposed to be by my side." "Dude, you loved her and we get that but you can't throw away your future just because yn isn't here. You know she would want you to continue and make a life for yourself." Rutger responds. "I went to development camp, is that not enough for everyone? If she's not with me I don't want to do this anymore, I should have done more, tried harder to get her to fight." he says breaking down more and more. "You can't blame-" T.J, who had now come into the room with the other guys stared, "THEN WHO THE FUCK DO I BLAME? WHO DO I GET ANGRY WITH WHEN I REACH FOR HER AND SHES NOT THERE?" Ethan looses it and screams out. "I DO BLAME MYSELF, I PROMISED HER SHE WOULD BEAT THIS FUCKING THING. NOTHING YOU SAY WILL MAKE ME FEEL DIFFERENT. I DON'T DESERVE HOCKEY, I DON'T WANT TO BE HAPPY WITH OUT HER." "Ethan, bro, where is this coming from? We had a blast at development camp what's gotten into you? Talk to me." Seamus says. "SHE'S FUCKING GONE DUDE - SHE'S GONE AND I CAN'T BRING HER BACK." he screams clutching the jersey closer to his chest and takes a deep breath. "I love her, we were supposed to grow old and be together for the rest of our lives. Why should I move on when she doesn't get to?" he continues slightly less aggressive.

Luca walks over to him where he's now collapsed onto the floor. "I was waiting for the right time to give you this." he starts holding out a sealed envelope with the word Ethan written in your handwriting on the front. "What- what is that?" Ethan asks taking the envelope from his friend. "Look dude, the day before y.n left she asked me to hold on to this, to let you take your time to grieve, but she knew you would be a stubborn asshole. She asked me to give you this when you lost all hope." Luca explains, "She didn't tell me the content of the letter but I'm hoping it might help." he says. All the guys made eye contact with each other and Seamus spoke up, "We will give you a moment dude." and a moment later Ethan sits on your bed and opens the envelope:

Ethan, I'm afraid, won't you stay a little while and keep me safe cause there's monsters right outside. They keep telling me to be hopeful, to have faith, to be honest baby I don't know how much more 'faith' I can have anymore. I want to be honest with you my love, because that is what we have always prided ourself on being, I'm writing you because it's not looking good. Every day is another battle to fight and I know they don't think I do but I hear it in the doctors and nurses voice, I'm not getting any better my love. Please know one thing that I hope can bring you comfort and that is that I have accepted my journey and I am at peace with whatever happens. As much as I don't want to leave you and the guys and my family, I am tired, so very tired of fighting, we have been fighting for years now and I need you to know I couldn't ask for a better partner to have fought this battle with. With that being said baby I need to leave you with my last hope for you when I am gone.

I know you won't listen to any of the guys, and that is why I have asked Luca to give you this incase I don't get to say this to your face. You CANNOT and I WILL NOT let you self-sabotage your future Eth, I know that you are going to feel like there's no hope, no point in experiencing these AMAZING milestones without me. I know you will tell everyone you no longer care for the sport of hockey, that you don't and won't allow yourself to experience playing for the Devils because you feel you no longer have anyone to share your incredible journey with. Ethan babe, that's SO far from the truth, because as long as you live I will be with you my love, where ever you go and what ever you do I will ALWAYS be in your heart and in your soul. You should know that even in death you won't get rid of me that easy Edwards.

Just 'cause I'm leaving doesn't mean that I won't be right by your side. When you need me and you can't see me in the middle of the night here's what I want you to do baby : Close your eyes and say a prayer and know that I know you're scared when I'm not here but I'll always be right there even though I'm leaving, baby I promise I ain't goin' nowhere. I know I act tough, but there's a churnin' in my gut cause I just can't call you up when things get rough anymore. I won't be able to wrap my arms around you and comfort you when you need me most, but know that I continue to route for you wether I'm physically here or not. Baby boy you have so much potential, so much love, so much light, so much joy, and so much passion please don't throw it all away after all of the hard work you and I have both put in to get you here.

I will love you with all of my heart and soul for the rest of time my New Jersey Devil. Make sure you allow the guys in during your hard times. As much as I know it's not me, they care about you and love you just as much, (though they will claim they love you more than I did, to which I say LUCA EVEN FROM THE GRAVE I'LL KILL YOU) and they want the best for you babe. I can't wait to hear all of the stories of your first season in the NHL, know that though I physically won't be in the stands, I will be at every game as long as you are thinking of me. Most importantly my love, you deserve to have a family, before you protest (I know you are) I mean it , you deserve to experience everything we have ever dreamed of, and I know you don't feel like it will ever happen but I'll be here to say I told you so when it does. Don't think of it as I'm not with you anymore, just loving you from afar my dear.

I love you so much, take your time to get yourself together, but then remember baby, it's game time.

your forever angel, Y.N

And with that Ethan knew he had some very big choices to make. If only you were here to make them with you.

**PLEASE READ**

A.N:

IM SORRY IVE BEEN MIA... I am going to be absent for the next week, I put in my notice at work so next week I start school up again and work almost every day lol.

First and foremost thank you to @quinnylouhughesx43 for helping me structure an idea. Second, I would like to say that before ANYONE accuses me of stealing other blogs works let me be CRYSTAL CLEAR: I am fully aware that there are stories like this floating around already, I actually reblogged one about jack the other day (highly recommend if you haven't read it yet to read it its on @lukehughes43 blog). At the same time this was a completely original idea I had and wanted to put out. I apologize if there is any similarities as I was partially inspired by said jack fic.

I hope you enjoy as this is one of the only written works I have put out. Feedback and Suggestions are welcomed.

also thank you to my baby girl @quinnylouhughesx43 for the banner <3

xoxox, M

Tagged : @babygirlboeser @quinnylouhughesx43 @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @skylershines @63kaprizov

[transgenderer]

A hen is born with two sex organs. One of these two organs is an ovary that functions somewhat similarly to a female human’s ovary. Normally, this functioning ovary is found on the left side of a hen and grows and develops as the chicken matures. It is this left ovary that produces the necessary estrogen in a hen’s body that regulates the production of ova (though these are called oocytes in chickens) and their release into the oviduct tract. The sex organ found on the right side of a hen is not an ovary at all. Rather it is simply an undefined gonad (yet to be determined as an ovary or testes). Unlike the left-side ovary, the right-side gonad in a hen will typically remain small, dormant and undeveloped throughout the bird’s life.

A spontaneous sex reversal occurs in a hen when her left ovary becomes somehow damaged or fails to produce the necessary levels of estrogen. Usually it is a medical condition such as an ovarian cyst, tumor or adrenal gland disease that causes a hen’s left ovary to stop working. Without the left ovary properly functioning in a hen, the estrogen levels in her body will drop to critically low levels, while conversely testosterone levels will rise. Without proper estrogen levels, the hen will no longer produce eggs.

A hen whose left ovary has failed and consequently has elevated testosterone levels in her body, will actually physically transform to take on male characteristics. Such a testosterone-addled hen will grow a larger comb, longer wattles, male-patterned plumage and spurs. Moreover, this hen will also adopt rooster-like behaviors such as crowing.

When a hen’s left ovary fails and sufficient testosterone levels are reached in her body, the hen’s dormant right-side gonad becomes activated. When the dormant, right-side gonad is switched on, it develops into a sex organ called an ovotestis, which has both testicular and ovarian aspects. Scientists have found that an ovotestis can produce sperm.

A sexually reversed hen with a “turned-on” ovotestis will actually try to mate with the other hens in the flock. There is conflicting information as to whether a hen that has undergone a spontaneous sex reversal and developed an ovotestis can sire offspring. At least one account of a sex reversed hen fathering chicks exists in online reports.

This unusual spontaneous sex reversal in hens is a somewhat rare phenomenon. British chicken expert Victoria Roberts estimates that this condition occurs in about 1 out of every 100 hens.

1 in 100 is INSANELY high for this. and the inactive gonad is very strange. i wonder if this could somehow be adaptive? allowing for reproduction even after sufficient damage to the reproductive system to make gestation nonviable? sex reversal in roosters may or may not be possible, there's sparse weak documentation