An update on my uterus
My dad seems to occasionally stop by this blog (hi dad), most recently to let me know that he disapproves of my crock pot use (something about the lack of braising, and it not being real cooking).
Which makes it weird to write about my period, and sex, and stuff like that. Because even though I will talk about it with anyone, because that’s what happens when you work in women’s health for a long time, it’s still a bit weird.
But I’m going to say this anyway, because what is blogging for, if not getting stuff off your chest in way too public a way…
Please stop asking me if I’m pregnant. Or telling me that you can tell I’ll get pregnant soon. Or that I’ll have cute babies. Yes, I know I’m a young married person. And I know I work with pregnant ladies and babies all day. And I know I sometimes say I’m hungry, or I have to pee, or I get the hiccups and you might overhear that information. None of those things mean I’m pregnant.
Sometimes things are not quite as simple as you’d like to believe that they are. And I promise that if I get pregnant someday, I’ll be blogging about it here.
For now, I need a glass of wine.