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Methinks that something is not adding up here in the long and winding saga of Anna and her reproductive organs. Let’s review the facts as we know them:

  • Anna was convinced of her own infertility.
  • Anna is now pregnant and was until today completely unaware that men could be infertile, which means that she never consulted any reasonably competent medical authority about her delicate condition.

Thus, it seems Anna drew her conclusions about her own inability to bring forth progeny the old-fashioned way: by knowing the sweet physical touch of love without either using birth control or giving birth.

But this seems to conflict with another known fact:

  • Anna’s first husband “wasn’t interested” in starting a family.

So, we can come up with speculations about the sordid, barren lie that was Anna’s first marriage:

  • Anna was not taking birth control and lying about it in an attempt to fill her aching loneliness with a little squaller who would provide her existence with some semblance of meaning.
  • Anna’s husband knew about his own manly inadequacies but kept them to himself, so as to keep screeching infants out of his house, mask his own failures, and send his trusting wife into a shame spiral from which she has yet to escape.

It’s also possible that Anna has a pre-first-marriage past that included lots of accidental or on-purpose non-maritally-sanctioned non-birth-controlled sex. It’s also possible that she’s just dumber than a sack of hammers, seeing as she apparently needs a doctor’s help to pee on a stick. I have to admit that I like her groovy polka-dotted shirt, though.