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Wednesday, June 01, 2005
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It's cold and rainy and gray and June. And I'm having one of those days.
Most of the time, I swear I'm fine. I work, I play; I putter around in my cute loft and wander around in this beautiful city. I laugh, I smile; I hug my husband who hugs me back and I think yeah, I'm a lucky lucky girl, to love this boy, to have this life.
But this morning I wake up cranky and crampy. Throw on a robe, shuffle to the bathroom, discover my withdrawal bleed has started.
These fake periods make me feel like a fraud. They're this annoying thing my body has done for as long as I can remember, only now they're a reminder of the other things my body can no longer do. Produce estrogen. Pass on my DNA. Make babies.
I am really, really mad at my body. It's a stupid thing to be pissed off about, I know. This body's the only one I have, and for all its failings it does an a-ok job of keeping me alive; to hate my body is to hate myself, and that makes no kinds of sense. So maybe hate isn't the right word. But disappointed? Yeah. I feel like my ovaries betrayed me, like my body's copped out. And so I'm angry and frustrated and mostly so, so sad.
Still, with the hormones, I feel healthy; with the boy, I feel strong. I know we'll still have kids, somehow, some way. I know that things aren't that bad now, and they will get better.
Which is why I'm sitting on my toilet at 8 am, reaching for a tampon, crying quietly. Getting the pity party over with first thing. So I can pull myself together, get dressed, start the day, move on.
# posted by y @ 9:15 AM
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