Last week, I discovered how much fun it can be to have ovaries the size of softballs. I looked pregnant. Just barely, but I had to wear sweatpants for a week (and that didn't happen last pregnancy til I was 7 weeks along). And it hurt so I couldn't stand up straight. I looked like my grandma would if she were 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. Hubby had to put a little more effort into acting like I was still beautiful. (I saw through his attempts, but wisely chose not to call him on it - hey, he made the effort, even though we both knew I looked like the geriatric pregnant, and that's enough for me)
On Doc Paranoia's orders, we were practicing abstinence, sorta. I'll admit to a few moments of the highly effective "pull-out-and-pray" method of birth control*, but overall, we did ok. The more miserable and uncomfortable I got, the easier abstinence got. I've never been good at it before now, so I'm guessing I can add abstinence to the list of skills infertility has taught me. Ironic, isn't it?
*yes, I know, it doesn't work..... for most people. considering our history, we're pretty confident that we're safe.
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