Dear Ovaries,
This is Dr. Cerebrum, delivering a crucial message from the rest of the body. First and foremost, I want to express my gratitude. Your contributions to the continuation of our species have been invaluable. The entire body acknowledges your pivotal role in the creation of our two offspring, and we appreciate your enthusiastic declaration that initiated this journey: “We need a baby!” Your urgency was noted, and indeed, we did need one.
Thanks to your efforts, we successfully navigated the challenges of parenthood, which would have been quite advantageous in a bygone era when larger families were essential for agricultural endeavors. However, in our modern context, I must inform you that your reproductive services are now redundant.
Following the arrival of Baby 2.0, any further activity related to reproduction, including egg release, will cease. The signals you send about how delightful babies are will no longer elicit a response, nor will we be swayed by the sight of a stranger’s newborn at the park.
The Nose concurs: aside from Baby 2.0, any baby scent should be disregarded, and we will take measures to eliminate those aromas from our surroundings. This also extends to your neighbor, The Uterus, who has endured constant readiness due to your previous excitement. She has formally requested your eviction from the lower abdomen, which we are currently considering.
Before you attempt to plead your case based on our current state of pregnancy, know that your appeals will fall on deaf ears—both literally and figuratively. The Ears, fatigued from the colicky cries of Baby 1.0, have also submitted a complaint against you, and they have expressed a desire for your removal if Baby 2.0 proves similarly vocal.
While we appreciate your past efforts, the seriousness of this matter cannot be overstated. We are, as they say, as serious as a heart attack—something you’ve nearly caused with your occasional pregnancy scares. Henceforth, any further surprises of that nature will not be tolerated and may result in further consequences.
However, I must mention that The Heart remains fond of you. Left to its own devices, it would advocate for a much larger family, but I have decided to put a stop to reproduction—ringing the bell of finality. Ding dong.
As a token of gratitude for your past contributions, you may continue to release eggs monthly until your inevitable decline into obsolescence. Since we cannot pinpoint which of you is primarily responsible for our offspring, both of you will receive a participation trophy to acknowledge your roles. However, barring any apocalyptic events or the necessity of colonizing a new planet, please refrain from reminding us of your desires or the 2 million eggs you still harbor. If storage is a concern, consider evolving and embracing the concept that sometimes, less is more.
Thank you for your cooperation and understanding in this matter.
Sincerely,
Dr. Cerebrum
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Summary
In this humorous yet informative letter, Dr. Cerebrum addresses the ovaries, acknowledging their contributions to reproduction while announcing that their services are no longer needed after Baby 2.0’s arrival. The body collectively emphasizes the importance of ceasing any further reproductive activities to maintain harmony and manage the existing familial responsibilities.