Picture this: it’s a beautiful spring afternoon. The sun is shining, but the temperature under the shade of a blossoming dogwood tree is perfect for a lazy picnic with the girlies. You’re drinking an Aperol spritz, the birds are singing, and your head is tilted back in laughter as your friend relays the tale of the time that a Tinder boy brought her handcuffs on their very first date. Suddenly, you feel it. It starts as a dull, uncomfortable ache, just under your bellybutton. But as it intensif…

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