⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠃⠀⠻⡇⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⢠⣆⣠⠖⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠦⣄⠀⠀⣸⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⢸⡆⢀⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⡟⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡄⠀⢀⣠⠞⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⡞⠀⣀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⣿⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢘⡇⠀⠀⣰⠃⡸⠁⢠⡟⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠈⢆⠀⢸⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠈⢧⡈⢻⡏⢰⠇⠀⣾⠁⢸⣼⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⢸⠀⢸⣧⡄⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡷⠀⠀⠈⠳⡾⠀⡼⠀⢸⡏⠀⡾⡿⢺⠃⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢸⠀⢹⡻⡏⠉⠓⠆⣇⠀⢻⠀⠀⢹⣋⣁⣤⠶⢺⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⡇⠀⢸⡇⠀⡇⡇⢸⢠⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢸⡆⢸⣇⢳⡀⠀⢰⣿⠀⢸⠀⠀⢸⣍⠀⠀⠀⢸⠘⡿⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡗⠀⠀⠀⣾⠇⡾⣷⡀⣿⡇⢠⡇⣇⣼⣘⡆⠀⠀⣼⠀⣼⣇⢸⣿⣼⣇⠀⢸⣿⡀⢸⠀⠀⢸⠿⠄⠀⠀⠘⢶⣻⣧⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡂⠀⠀⢠⣿⢰⣿⢹⡇⣿⣧⣼⣷⣿⣿⣯⣧⣶⡤⠿⠶⠋⠿⣼⣿⠿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣧⣼⠀⠀⢸⣧⣤⣀⡀⠀⢀⣀⡭⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣈⠀⠴⣏⣹⢸⣼⠸⣧⣽⠛⡟⢻⣉⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢱⣶⣿⣿⣿⣯⢻⣿⠀⠀⢸⣿⡆⠈⠉⠉⢹⡗⠒⠒⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡝⠀⠀⠈⣿⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⡄⠉⠸⣿⠿⠿⣻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣯⡙⢋⣽⠃⢸⡏⠀⡆⢸⡝⣷⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⣠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⣿⠀⢹⣿⣧⠀⠘⠊⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣉⣀⣠⢸⠃⢸⠁⢸⠃⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠻⣾⣿⠀⠸⣿⣿⡀⠐⠒⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⣸⠀⣟⣴⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡀⡀⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⢀⡇⢀⣿⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⢧⣿⣈⢻⣏⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⠤⠖⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠻⣶⣼⢁⣿⡿⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠀⠀⢀⣸⣇⣀⣠⡤⠶⠟⠊⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⢾⡿⠷⠒⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣾⣷⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⢹⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣤⠖⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠛⠛⢿⡇⢀⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⢸⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠈⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠨⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣯⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⢁⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡋⠣⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣾⣿⣉⣁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢉⡗⠤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠜⠋⠉⠙⠓⢶⠀⣤⣠⣼⠁⠀⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢜⠆⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⢺⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⢻⣿⡟⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠷⠆⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣴⣃⣴⣆⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⢀⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠉⢓⣤⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡋⠀⡼⢹⣿⣧⢀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡼⠁⠀⠈⠙⠢⢤⣘⡫⣥⡄⠀⠉⠉⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠖⠋⠀⢧⢠⠇⣿⢿⣿⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿

She would be so pregnant all the time that she should literally not be able to stand up straight anymore even after menopause. Her spine would be permanently bent out of shape to accommodate a pregnant belly. Even after she can't get pregnant anymore I would just keep putting more eggs into her. I would clone her purely so that I can put fresh eggs from the clone inside her after she runs out of them. If she doesn't have any eggs I will synthesize them from her DNA. She would have so much progresterone running through her veins at any given time that even the thought of not being pregnant would seem alien to her. Imagine marrying Pippa and she tells you she wants a kid and that she'll be fine and she'll keep her Vtuber duties up while pregnant. When she finally gets two lines on her pregnancy test she'll jump and full body hug you crying about how happy she is after trying so hard. Everything is going great for a few months, Pippa is glowing and her Vtuber activites are working out and her belly is quite small on her toned body. Now imagine in a few months Pippa has to stop her Vtuber activities because her feet hurt and her legs aren't used to holding up her new weight. Her belly extends almost a full foot infront of her and she's gained nearly 15 kilos. Imagine the look on Pippa face when her doctor tells her that she would take a break on her Vtuber activities for a while because she's carrying triplets and the excessive movement is doing more harm than good. Imagine Pippa reluctantly smiling at you and promising to stop doing her favonious reps for the sake of preparing to take care of three kids at once. Imagine as the weeks go by and her womb fills up more and as her appetite and weight increase with it. Imagine finding your 7 month pregnant wife Pippa raiding the fridge in the dark at 4:00 AM with a guilty look on her face when you find her, like a puppy and that gnawed holes into your pillow. Imagine towering above Pippa while she sits on the floor nervously wiping ice cream drips off of her massive belly and mumbling about how the kids made her do it. Imagine helping Pippa up and princess carrying her back to bed and having her ask if she can lie on top of you because you're warm. Imagine rubbing Pippa's nipples and having her complain about how you might get milk everywhere and how she needs to save it for the kids. Imagine teasing Pippa about her breasts are too small to feed three kids and how she'll need to start saving it up early, leading to her not milking herself for weeks and accidentally turning her tiny supple breasts into overfilled perky veiny milk tanks that spurt succulent cream at the slightest touch. Imagine Pippa being proud of her breast growth despite it being painful and unhealthy and imagine the look on her face when the doctor says she would just start milking herself and how her husband (you) would probably be willing to help. Imagine spending hours with Pippa now plump squishy body resting on your lap while you suck the milk out of her tits. Imagine the extra weight from her pregnancy making it difficult to walk for her and turning her partially immobile during the last month. Imagine Pippa try harding motherly charms like learning to cook and decorating the baby room and lactating. Imagine your comments having made her self concious about her milk production so she starts try harding supplements and massages to increase her yield to nearly a quart of milk per day.