Cousin IT died in my laundry

I am going bald. I swear it. I had heard that a woman loses quite a bit of hair after giving birth, but this is ridiculous. We find it EV-ER-Y-WHERE. A continued loss of abundance from the birthing body. I find it in matted balls in our clean laundry, which, oddly enough, makes it feel less clean. I find it stuck in between Jude's fat rolls. I find it inside my socks tickling my toes. I find it itching my back at random points in the day. I find it in our sheets. I find it on the floor. I find it in M's hair. I find it stuck in MY fat rolls. I have to stay ever-vigilant to prevent it from being in our food (and I promise, I'm a regular eagle-eyes!). For the love. And don't even start me on what comes out of my head when I shower or comb my hair. Handfuls, my friends, handfuls. And it's bringing back my high school paranoia that I would be a bald woman by sweet 16. I remember wondering if they made Rogaine (sp?) for teenage girls. Then I read that one generally loses about 100 strands per day. After doing some calculating on the wall of the shower, I figured I was not in too grave of danger. My new post-birth trends put my fearful high school heart to shame. To SHAME!

So, I am now re-investigating Rogaine for postpartum women. And wigs. And implants.

If I look like Gollum creepily cradling a gnarly ball of lost hair ("my precious") next time you see me, just smile and tell me my hair looks luscious.