Yes, I am still alive. I could bore you with tales from the last two weeks about pain, and almost being hospitalized, and more pain, and how I started losing weight, and the chiropractor, and the acupuncturist, and the PAIN, and the pain medication, and the ANNOYING woman who led our hospital tour, but instead I'll regale you with a tale of blood and gore (and stupidity).
Yesterday while my husband was at the gym I took a shower (see, already this is a super exciting story).
When I was finished I couldn't help but notice that the "hedges" were long overdue for a trim.
Now, normally this is not a big deal. I grab a pair of cuticle scissors or my husband's electric beard trimmer and withing a few minutes I'm "manicured", but now, a few days away from being eight months pregnant, I can't see my own crotch.
It is at this point in the story that I must mention that a couple of days earlier my husband had said he would do it for me, because he is awesome like that (he also shaves my legs for me because I can't reach them).
Rather than wait the fifteen minutes or so until my husband came home, I decided it would be a great idea to go on a blind expedition through my bottom system jungle.
So, I sat on the toilet bowl, beard trimmer in hand and started raking away. Things were going fine until- ZZZZzzzzzzzzztttttttttt.
OK, I thought, that hurt a little, but it certainly doesn't mean I should stop. I kept on raking away using the braille method until I happened to notice that there was blood all over the beard trimmer.
OK, maybe NOW would be a good time to stop hacking around blindly at my crotch.
My husband came home to find me with a sheepish look on my face. When I told him what I'd done he said "for future reference, it's probably not a good idea to jam sharp pointy things(insert- ha! that's funny too-joke here) at your vagina(he uses fancy words like vagina because he's a doctor), especially when you can't see it."
He is so wise.
So, here I sit, with wounded crotch.
I can not even tell you how disconcerting it is to not be able to keep tabs on your own crotch.
I mean, God only knows what's going on down there.