The Chicago Blackhawks Ruined My Sex Life (and other $hit I like to tell myself)

The Chicago Blackhawks Ruined My Sex Life (and other $hit I like to tell myself)

They lost! They freaking lost! The cup! The Stanley Cup!

The Chicago Blackhawks lost! UGH!

You know what else was lost?

Eggs.

As in my eggs.

You know the kind that needs sperm to fertilize. Sperm from a man. As in sex. From my partner.

As in playoff hockey killed my eggs.

Really?

Really!

I'd like to think so.

Nothing like trying to schedule sex around the Western Conference Finals.

Ain't nobody got time for that!

Anyone that has ever tried to conceive a child through strict timing knows what I'm talking about. Infertility sucks. There is only so much time we have in a month to attempt this reproduction thing. There is this very tiny window where an egg is viable and waiting.

Well, it kept waiting.

And waiting.

Life gets in the way.

Playoff hockey gets in the way.

It just doesn't happen sometimes. Sometimes you just can't connect.

Sometimes, that's okay.

Between the plague my son brought home from daycare and The Chicago Blackhawks playoff schedule, the deed was about as dead as the United Center after that devastating overtime goal by the LA Kings.

Couldn't one of us take home a win??

Timing is everything.

Just ask Corey Crawford.

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