So, for the first time in 21 months, over a year and a half, its that time of the month. That's right, you guessed it, my period. Why hello there Aunt Flo, it's been awhile. Why don't you pull up a chair and stay for awhile, say like...7 days?
You may wonder why I'm posting this. I myself thought twice about doing it, but only did so for one reason. This is the first time in almost four years that it wasn't a bad thing. It's so strange. I'm wondering in anyone out there who has dealt with infertility felt the same mix of emotions the first time it came back.
I mean, no one welcomes this time of the month. In AF's two year hiatus I'd forgotten how much cramps H.U.R.T and had also conveniently forgotten that I turn into something that resembles a rabid, raging bull for at least three days. Poor Rob. The worst part is I know I'm doing it and simply cannot stop myself. For example:
Rob: "I found your car keys, they were in the fridge. Why would you put them there?"
Me: "ROOOOOAAAAR. RAAAAGGE. ROOOAAAAR." ::sulk sulk sulk::
I snap back at this most harmless comments, stew and steam about anyone who dares disagree with me. I have to make a concerted effort to not be a complete bitch. Which renders me exhausted. So there here I am, cranky, exhausted and feel like I'm being constantly headbutted in the uterus and punched in the ovaries, and them racked with guilt at my waspishness and woefully apologetic afterward on top of it. Isn't Rob a lucky guy?
It is still really strange though. This time there is no "You're NOT PREGNANT...AGAIN. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT A BABY. FAIL...AGAIN." No hurt. No tears. No hoping that it was actually implantation spotting. No imagining symptoms. No thinking ahead to the next cycle, the next month, counting the days. No ovulation predictor. No next round of Clomid. No doctor's appointment. None of that, for the first time in years.
All I could think of was...wow, you know what this means? This means I'm not pregnant and that is completely OK. It's like letting go of that old infertile feeling, and damn, it feels good. On top of it all, this means that my body can (most likely, with some help) get pregnant again. Who knows when, and who knows how long it will take or when we'll even start trying again, but I'm back on track. So strange to think about. And, even through my AF induced crankiness, super exciting to think of as well.
Someday there will be another baby...babies. There will be a big family of us. A house filled with love and children and happiness. Lucy has completed this little family, but I want more for her just as much as I want it for myself. I want her to be one of a gaggle of brothers and sisters who fiercely quarrel and even more fiercely love. Whisper secrets to one another. Stick up for each other. Make mud pies and run in the rain barefoot together. Wait for Santa. Be the best of friends in the worst of times.There will be more babies, even if they don't all come from me and Rob, there will be more and it will be amazing. In a strange way it's a new beginning.
Did anyone else out there feel the same way?
"You won't realize the distance you've gone until you look around and realize how far you've been."