Something about pregnancy makes me simultaneously inappropriate and obsessive-compulsive. For example, a thought will pop into my head and I’ll obsess over it and finally share it with the wrong person at the wrong time. This is where the inappropriate part comes in. Like right now. I’m about to overshare with you. Whoever you are.

Husband received the following text from me yesterday while he was with a customer:

What if having this baby stretches my vagina out so much that it’s rendered useless???

His response:

It won’t.

I was not satisfied with this response. How does he KNOW? There is no way to know. It’s anybody’s guess what may or may not happen to me and my parts. I wanted to discuss it. I needed to come up with a contingency plan, just in case. Because I am obsessively, compulsively worried about it, RIGHT NOW.

He later explained to me that he was with a customer and therefore unable to get involved in a hypothetical discussion about how large my vagina may or may not be after birthing our second child.

Today’s latest text to Husband:

Are you going to the store? DO NOT forget to get stool softeners.

Based on his failure to respond, I have to assume he was with a customer when he got that one too.