Well, I’m definitely NOT pregnant, and this time I didn’t need a test to figure that one out. Immediately upon getting up this morning (and with my son nursing practically all night, to add insult to injury) Mother Nature decided that she was done letting me believe I had any control whatsoever as to when I’d have to deal with her monthly “surprise”.
Yep, she took one look at all my efforts to dodge her, laughed her ass off and held up her middle finger and said “haha, yeah…no…you’re not getting off that easily.” And while I’m thankful it started JUST as I went into the bathroom this morning and noticed the lovely surprise on the toilet paper, I didn’t have a tampon with me (because why would I?). So I had to run into the ensuite bathroom and dig one out of the box that’s been sitting dormant since June 2012.
UGH! Just fucking UGH!!!!
All that work, for NOTHING. All that planning for NOTHING! It didn’t work! It. Didn’t. Fucking. Work.
I’ve been sooooo diligent. Every time I even suspected I was fertile I made sure to pounce on my all-too-eager husband. We were having a hell of a fun couple of months.
And I thought it would work, I really did. But FUCK! It just didn’t work and I can only come up with these reasons why it didn’t work.
1) The timing was off between weaning and ovulation starting up again. Doubtful though, because I was monitoring my “fertility signs” pretty diligently just to avoid this very horrible thing!
2) There wasn’t an actual egg. Which is possible, but pretty shitty Mother Nature! Couldn’t even let me have the full cycle, could you? Nope, you totally just did this to fuck with me.
3) My husband’s swimmers need a GPS to find the egg. See, this one I might believe more, because when we were younger we were screwing like rabbits and he never managed to knock me up in the times that we actually had an oops moment (except for that one time).
4) This isn’t a period; it’s an early miscarriage. I could probably live with that, if only because it would mean we didn’t actually fail and that maybe the egg or sperm was just defective.
5) Mother Nature is a fucking bitch and enjoys ruining my life! This one is probably the real reason. All I know is that as soon as I stop bleeding and no longer need to drug myself up with painkillers to stop this horrible pain, I’m going to pounce on my husband every night (or at least every other night) and hope to hell that THIS is the month I get pregnant for real. I can deal with having my kids’ birthdays a month apart; especially if it means I don’t have to hate life anymore.