The waiting. The anticipation. The frustration. The tears. The hopefulness. The futile fucking hope.
I have not tested, but I don’t need to. I know. I know my body-unless my uterus is pranking me with the most UNCOOL Halloween joke ever. You know how the Natives would put their ear to ground and hear/feel the hoof beats of upcoming frienemies? I feel Auntie Fucking Flo coming. I feel the slight tremors of pebbles on the ground, the unsettled feeling of ‘just knowing’. Just Call me Bumpy “Cries Over Flo” Journey.
I told The King last night that felt my period coming- the low backache like I lifted something wrong. The aching in my thighs, the *TMI* painful poop shooter, the Mt. Vesuvius on my chin, emotional liability. All harbingers of some thing most foul. I cried hysterical cries almost. I don’t think he has ever seen that before. It was to the point were he asked me if we needed to go to the ER. (HAHAHAHA) I had to shut it down least I made him think I was unsuitable to go through this again. I was good, I got it out.
Until this AM. See- every morning he kisses me good-bye. Every day. The TWO times in our life we haven’t he has called and apologized. I love this- it is starting our day out right. We always kiss goodbye and goodnight. We always say I love you. Since the IUI he has been kissing my belly (I had to redirect him after the first few days b/c it was just weird for him to be kissing my small bowel.) The first few days he would text me “How is the morula?” Then How is Blasto?” then “How is our Embaby?” Also kissing me and our “growing” family.
This morning he only kissed me.
Broke. My. Heart.