Getting my period has never carried so much psychological weight. I am not pregnant.
I am so bummed and sad. And along with the tears come cramps, a sore back
and a bloody reminder that no baby. Not this time.
Jason remains so positive and says we have to get back on the horse.
I fall into a helpless abyss and take a nap (something I never do and quite frankly judge myself for doing it).
Not this time.
And it seems the day that it feels so far away is the day where everywhere I turn there is a reminder that everyone on the planet has a child, or is going to have a child or is telling me to have a child.
Amazon sent me an email today asking if I want to order a years worth of Pregnancy Magazine.
My best friend asked me to join her for lunch with her two kids.
And my neighbors, you know the ones, Cindy and Sandy, come over as if they have a "radar for the absurd" attached to their head and say to me, "now that you have a beautiful yard, you need to have babies."
We just landscaped our yard. We saved money for two years. Hired a very talented Englishman to design it. Hired the guys to demolish the previous yard. Hired other guys to plant and put in new sprinklers. Hired other guys to build and paint a fence. Four weeks later -- we have a yard. It's beautiful. Drought tolerant while still having grass. Cindy and Sandy and their friend, Diego (seen in photo) are very excited about all the green and I assume we will be seeing even more of them because we have a yard that's soft and colorful, while theirs is hard and concrete. I'm happy to share.
It's amazing that during the course of one day, the world can feel like it's full of deep despair and by the end of that day, it becomes a little more hopeful, with green grass growing,
water fountains trickling and a bird washing itself in a bath.
At the end of this really crappy day, in this new yard, despite my well-meaning, inquisitive ten year old twin neighbors, I am finding some peace and happiness.
Note to Self: If you need to take a nap, take it.