Two whispered words

It’s a phrase inevitably whispered, two words to strike fear and hope and the embodiment of ambivalence: “I’m late.” It simply must be whispered, voice low but weighty, urgent, breathy, breathlessly.

But WordPress doesn’t do “whisper”, so: I’m late.

…to blog about my period. Two whole days. I know, you’re shocked and disappointed in me that I didn’t keep you up-to-the-minute on the status of my uterus. (…or that I’d yank your chain like that.) What can I say, it’s the holidays. (…and I’m slightly evil.)

Once again, I am definitely not pregnant. And I’m still very not ambivalent about that: we are still very much trying to avoid conception. But… it no longer feels like an impossibility. Having another child is still definitely not an inevitability, either, but I can picture it now, where once the idea left me wide-eyed and wondering where the nearest Planned Parenthood was.

This where I pause to say: Dear family and friends, I will consider the next person to ask me when we’re having another to be volunteering to pay for that child’s education from ages 2-22. We’re thinking private school, followed by small liberal arts college. Out of state. Any of you have anything you’d like to say now? …I thought not.

Right, back to the topic: at which point I decide that I’ve had too many cookies tonight (and we’re baking more tomorrow!), and direct you to Hobo Mama, wherein she discusses many of the various sides for and against having a second-and-would-be-last child, in a way I’m simply too sugar-dosed and sleepy (and crampy and blood-loss-y) to manage right now.

And PS: I apologize. I promise to never again fake a possible-pregnancy maybe-announcement ever. I swear on a stack of cloth pads. Cross my womb and hope to bleed for a month. Honest.

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10 Responses to Two whispered words

  1. Hi, Arwyn! I almost started squealing, though whether in glee or horror, I couldn’t say. I am due for my monthly friend tomorrow. Yes, a splash of red for Christmas day! We’ll cross our fingers and hope I get my gift on time.

    It’s funny how similarly we’re feeling. The possibility is there, where it wouldn’t have been even a few months ago. Is it a nature thing, to start being ready again after 2-2.5 years? But then I have days like yesterday where I think I maybe don’t deserve the kid I have! And so I go ’round again.

    Happy moon-days to you.

    P.S. I also have had too many cookies. Seriously.

  2. Would you believe that we’re still debating whether to have a third child? Gah. I always saw myself with two … *MAYBE* three kids (and that was a big maybe). I wish I could quit thinking about it!

    BTW, I wish I had the too many cookies problem … that sounds like a good problem to have. :)

  3. I am with Kareena, still debating a possible number 3. Not yet, of course, but maybe someday. Which had better be soon-ish, because I’m not getting any younger. The truth is, I think it’s hard to give up all possibility of having another baby. Even when you know what that entails, and the difficulties involved, babies are awfully intoxicating. They sort of have to be to make up for all the inconvenience and expense.

    I am glad that you are not pregnant (as you say you do not wish to be), and that you have ample supplies of cookies to see you through. I think I live in a permanent state of having eaten too many, myself.

  4. ChelseaWantsOut

    I’ve commented once or twice as Chex, I think, but I always read your blog and I just wanted to say that I actually just found out I’m pregnant on Saturday, which was the day after I read this, but still. :D It’s just our first child, but it seemed relevant, maybe?

    Anyway, glad you got yours and I didn’t get mine.

  5. We are currently trying for our second (and hopefully not our last). I enjoyed having a brother so much, I would love to see our little one experience having a sibling.

  6. I am going to borrow your statement as our families must be related. I have given very logical reasons why our quiver is full with two little blessings. And still some people have problems restraining themselves from murmuring about another little one to come.

    My body’s Christmas present to me was four full days of bleeding (not seven like last month) that ended a few days before Christmas. Even though my attitude about my cycle has improved, I find myself feeling sorry for my bleeding self. And the self-pity bleeds into my whole demeanor (like the pun?). While my VBAC was a victorious experience, I did feel quite the compassion for my stretched out bits that were so tender afterward. I’m not sure if my monthly self pity are from birth. This whole bleeding stuff is new to me after being pregnant and then resting my uterus for 18 MONTHS! (is it OK to brag?).

    There. I don’t want to write about my cycle on my blog, but I hope it’s OK to blog in your comments. Baby steps. Not literally. No more babies. Figurative baby steps. Don’t get any ideas.

    • What is WITH ppl constantly asking if you’ll have another one? I thought it was bad when we only had one but it seems to have gotten worse now that we have two! I don’t KNOW if we’ll have another one, will ppl please quit asking? (Ok, I may have almost kind of committed to a decision but only in the last few days… and its still annoying to be asked especially by ppl I dont know very well and totally out of context with the situation/rest of the conversation.) Anyway, the point is, I feel your pain re the questioning. Ppl need to get a life, huh?

    • Figurative baby steps are quite welcome here! And I adore the pun. ;)

      Bragging’s also welcome, though you might get some glares. I made it 14 months, and felt lucky enough, although also annoyed that we played it safe contraception-wise for over half a year when we, in retrospect, hadn’t had to. (But isn’t that always the way?)

      I’ve talked with people who feel like they’re doing something wrong if they don’t enjoy/celebrate/embrace their period, but quite frankly, neither do I. I just decline to be ashamed or silent about it. But I am finding that blogging about it helps me to accept and even welcome it, to some extent. Along with cramping and irritations and mess, it brings an opportunity to talk about this rather nifty (if annoying) thing my body does. But then, I enjoy sitting with ambivalence — accepting both the joys and the pains of any experience, especially one so basically benign as bleeding, can actually be rewarding in itself.

  7. Pingback: I need a name « Raising My Boychick

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