I’m grateful whenever my schedule synchs up with my husband’s and we can both go to the doctor’s. However, at the last appointment I forgot that it was the oh-so-fun “let’s check your cervix” time. Sure it had the potential for hot medical-faux-lesbian-action, but in reality it was three adults not looking at my downtown bonaza with me hoping to God that I wouldn’t get ticklish and start laughing because God hates me and would allow a moment like that to happen in front of my husband and a trained medical professional.
But Mike put it best: “It was like she was pulling a rabbit out of a hat.”
I don’t think I’ve exploited my pregnancy enough. I’m not talking about those pretty-pregger websites and their paying customers (though I could have been working it), I haven’t been in the news at all. You know what adding “Pregnant woman” does to a headline? Just looking at today’s listing on seattletimes.com, there is some magic to be had. For example:
I also used a hula hoop the other day. It got stuck. I am now using it as a belt and hanging bed sheets off of it for some snazzy springtime skirts. Sexy!