Once upon a bed rest, I googled "irritable uterus", and your hilarious blog popped up.
You made me laugh, you made me cry, you became a beacon of sarcasm through the darkness of seriousness that was my life for 20 some odd weeks.
But now my sympathetic suffering has taken on a new meaning. I've broken out in three different rashes.
Now, they're nothing like your horrible, weeping, wailing, disgusting (sorry) horror of a rash. But seriously, three different rashes?
How did you deal, sister? We are bound by more than our angry baby bags now. I itch with you, my friend. I think of you with each satisfyingly painful scratch. Give me guidance!