Monday, January 23, 2006

The Single Pink Line

After feeling queer for the past week and strongly suspecting a bun was in the oven, I jumped the gun this morning and dipped the magic stick into a cup of my freshest urine in hopes of seeing those two - not one, but TWO - magic pink lines appear in the window.

Alas...only one line deigned to show up.

I tried to tell myself that I wasn't that disappointed, but I suppose I am, somewhat. Did I just will myself into feeling strange because I hoped I was pregnant? Seems like ever since I saw that single pink line, like the bottom of the sodapop cap liner that says "Sorry, try again!", I have felt completely UN-pregnant.

The strangest things go through your head. If so many people get pregnant all the time, why am I not pregnant? OK...I've only been seriously trying for the past two months. I realize this can take time, but I *am* going to be 40 this year and there's no sense in ignoring that. The truth is this could potentially be difficult. Have I squandered away my fertility over the years with chemical intervention, less than perfect diet and exercise, and thumbing my nose at a life tied down to diapers and nursing bras?

I feel as though all the gods on Olympus have decidedly, rather petulantly, to admonish me for my cheek. I seriously think Demeter is waiting for me to slaughter my finest heifer in her honour. If my womb is destined to spill forth this weekend, I'll crack a pinot noir and toast Bacchus, ask him to say a few kind things about me to the lady of fertility, and have her send me *two* pink lines next month.

1 Comments:

At 9/4/06 10:07 a.m., Anonymous Anonymous said...

enjoy your blog and pictures.

 

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