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I’m in that week. You know. THAT week. The one they tell you that begins the waiting game: the week between ovulation and the week your period’s due.
THAT week.
I’m bloated, gassy, irritable, crampy, hungry, nauseous…suffering with enlarged, sore boobs…
Yea. All fit the symptoms of Early Pregnancy, right? But they also fit PMS.
Now, I must mention here the fact that I’d been on birth control pills for the past two years; previous to this past February when my boyfriend and I decided to toss the birth control pills to the side to “see what happens”. In the time I was on those hormonal wonders, I’ve had minimum PMS symptoms and just coasted along during my actual period and beyond. However, for the 30 years before that, I don’t remember my symptoms because I’ve never been so sensitive to my body before. At this point, after three decades of never worrying about my fertility and the possibility of a potential pregnancy, it’s all I can think about…
Sad situation. I went through the “false” symptoms last month and was admittedly disappointed in my false home pregnancy test. Intellectually, I know that it can take months to conceive and it may take me even longer because of my weight and my boyfriend’s surety he can’t have kids because at 33, and a truly busy sex life pre-ME, he has no children at all. I think that’s a slim reasoning at best, but I let him have his theories because I have nothing else to go on. My limited sexual experience is only topped by my LACK of experience when it comes to pregnancy.
Yea. Irony seems to be a fact of life. Many women spend decades of our lives trying to avoid a visit from the stork…However, at some point, it becomes the “next step” in our “plans” for ourselves and we begin to panic and make the whole conception process drag out for what seems to be ages.
I don’t know if my body is foretelling a future addition to my little family or if I’m about to be visited by Aunt Flow, but I do know I hope it’s an addition…with mixed feeling either way.
What do I mean by that? Well, it’s simple. Like many people, my life isn’t easy right about now. The pressures of my days and nights with being responsible for helping my father care for my ailing mother gets the best of me at times. There are many nights after a long day at work that all I want to do is go home and munch on a good dinner and watch tv until my body tells me to go into “nappytime”. Instead, on the nights I want this the most, it seems I get a call from Daddy at the last minute requesting I “come by” just for a “few” minutes to “speak to” my mom. What he really means is that Mama is driving him crazy and he needs someone else there to break the monotony of caring for a terminally ill woman who’s in the last stages of losing an on-going battle with one of the worst illnesses I’ve come across in my lifetime: ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease).
This alone makes me insane for wanting to expand
