(This post is in the TMI range—you have been warned)
So. Finally got AF.
Reminding me so much about what I so hate about it. The bloating, the cramping, the bleeding, the general UGH.
Reminding me about how for many years I would grumble about why I would go through this each month, but STILL would not have the pay-off of another child.
Reminding me about the 2 years that I kept careful records on our calendar, notes that say “SP” (started period) with a big “X” marking times that ovulation would be happening. (I look at old calendars and think—“What a waste”).
Reminding me that for those 2 years we just assumed the timing was off; not that there was something actually wrong. (again, the wasted remark)
Reminding me that the last time I started a cycle I had to call the Clinic so they could set up the protocol and so that I could come in for my blood draw (more blood—yeah!) and start the long waiting periods of hope and hell.
It is so hard to have these reminders and understand that this time and for time in memoriam, I don’t need to care about any of that stuff. Its over and I can look at my daughter and be happy.
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