If You're Afraid Of TMI - Stop Reading!

I've been debating with myself (as there are no other adults in the house) since Monday night about sharing a certain story here. It's kind of creepy, icky, and embarrassing so it's perfect for a blog! But then there's the creepy, icky, embarrassing thing, and oh, what the hell. The three or four of you who read this regularly will hopefully be amused and not offended...

I had a growth. On my girly parts.

About the time I got pregnant I noticed what seemed to be a larger-than-normal skin tag sort of thing on my...things. When I had my pelvic, the midwife took a look at it and said, "Yep, looks like a skin tag gone a little wild." She said not to worry about it.

A few months pass and my body becomes a seething mass of all sorts of hormonal madness. What with the constant vomiting and all, I failed to keep track of my little tag for awhile. One day I look down, and I swear the thing had started taking steroids. Which considering the amount of hormonal chaos in my body, it pretty much had.

And just because you know this story isn't complete without this sort of detail - the growth never really got thicker, just longer. It never got quite as thick as a pencil, but it did manage to stretch about 2 inches. Monkey Man started threatening to name it. I told him that all the testosterone in the house was causing me to grow my own damn penis. I was actually thankful when my belly got too big to see around - as long as I didn't have my glasses on when I looked in the mirror, I could contentedly pretend it wasn't there! I even refused to trim on the very sound basis that it would just make the thing look bigger.

Cut to my prenatal visit on Monday night. I ask the midwife (a different one) to take a look at my soon-to-be-named growth and let me know if there's anything that can be done before the baby comes. Anything. Please. She tells me she removed a similar "polyp" (can we stick with growth because that really sounds icky) from another patient just a week prior and offers to snip snip right then and there.

And while the sound of scissors clipping away in the numbed vicinity of my most treasured body parts was just a wee bit disconcerting, I am now happily growth free. Happy but just a tad uncomfortable; it's a little ouchy when I change positions and the underwear rubs against the snipped part. They are sending the thing to pathology just to be safe, but all the medical types seem to be in agreement that it's just one of those weird but harmless, you know, things.

And as long as I'm oversharing, here's a thought - the growth was bald (pretty much a miracle in itself since Monkey Man isn't the only furball in the house). I wonder if I'll have a bald spot after it heals up...