|Seriously, this is the last warning!|
Well there must have been crack up in the bowl of soup I had for dinner, as nothing else would explain my urge to examine my nether regions with said hand mirror. I have heard stories about pregnant vaginas, and since I'm down to the two month warning bell and my doc will soon be examining mine regularly, or so I'm told, I guess I was somehow morbidly curious as to what exactly she would be a witness to while between my swollen thighs.
I have already had enough hoohah fears during this pregnancy. I'm worried about my most likely botched grooming technique being on display in the delivery room. I haven't been able to see my va-jay-jay, much less properly get to it for tidying up, for months now. I do my best, but as I have mentioned in a previous entry, I'm thinking it may look like some half-shaved Chewbacaesque patch-work quilt down there. I've been doing my best to practice grooming while unable to see the task at hand and bent into the most obscure positions just to reach down there, but I imagine that all my efforts are probably just making the situation worse. I should probably just let it loose and go for the 1970s buckwheat locked in a headlock look, but I'm way too vain for that!
|My sentiments exactly!|
|Beaver says boo!|
So what was my big horror you ask? You sure you really want to know? Well first off, what the fuck is going on down there? I swear that some vagina snatcher snuck in my room and stole my real vagina and replaced it with something dug up from a dank swamp somewhere in Jersey! I'm not kidding, that thing down there is not mine! And I want mine back!
I used to love my hoohah with all my heart. It was all cute and pretty and perky and lovely. Now it's just big and droopy and swollen and dark and evil and something more akin to Gollum than to the heavenly creature it once was.
|I'm sure you can figure out the reference for yourselves!|
|I think we all generally feel like this!|
Apparently these little buggers go away once the baby is born, and if not can easily be removed, but still! Not only do I now have to worry about my patchwork grooming and my ugly-ass swollen and disfigured koochie,
|Looks about right!|
It's times like these that I'm glad to be single. If I was married or dating, I would be one tight-legged non-giving-it-up gal right now. No way would I ever let my significant other anywhere near that terror between my thighs! How would I ever convince them that it wouldn't be like that forever? I would be terrified they'd pack their bags and haul ass before I could even pull my granny panties back on. I've heard that pregnant sex is pretty awesome, but it is obviously meant to test whether true love is up in the house because you'd have to love each other a lot to get past what's going on down there.
|Yep, this would be the case if I was attached!|
|I sort of feel like this!|
|After all, things could be worse!|
That and a little bit of Primus!
Until my next horrific discovery, you know what to do!