Bad Uteri

My uteri are playing silly buggers. They have spent the last 3 days fighting like cat and dog, and I’m fed up. It feels like some fool has given them a Wii, and now they’re boxing seven shades of myometrium out of one another. I am also, perhaps unsurprisingly, spotting, and there is absolutely no good reason why this should be happening. None at all. I have lost track of my precise dates, but I had an absolute humdinger of a period in early-mid February time. I am not pregnant. I am not obviously ovulating. (Although I shall scurry off happily to pee on something at bedtime. Probably a peestick, unless I get very over-excited.) I am not breastfeeding any more, or any less, than I was last month… so I am feeling quite cross about it.

And now I am going to bed early, courtesy of a pounding headache, grinding uteri, and a a big old tired-sicky feeling. I have spent most of today an hour and a half’s drive down the M5, visiting a isolated, baby-blues stricken, worried family member and her exceedingly nomnomnom-able 4 month old baby; he has decided that Milk Is For Wimps and is currently trying to sustain himself on fresh air instead. I had a good nuzzle on his beautifully warm baby-fuzzed head, and decided that I’d better try for another one after all.

Umm. Yes, I do appear to be changing my mind on a daily basis about this.

Bare Bear with me.

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