My brain in all its consistent irrationality did not consider a pathetic parenting record as reason enough to stop procreating after my Nibbles. Before I could determine if the number of stretch marks on my pooch was a prime number, poor Chewy got tossed into the experiment.

Fortunately, these days my body’s decided to take matters into its own pelvis. It routinely cramps the message home in the form of highly unsexy ovulation twinges that serve as not-so-gentle reminders of L&D. Hello two-week long PMS that roars ferociously in response to the wickedly sweet cupcakes that sneak their way in!

Mittelschmerz. Why yes! that’s exactly what it sounds like when my ovaries sneeze.

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