Guess what the universe gave me for Valentine’s Day? A drop in basal body temperature and cramps! (I swear, if it weren’t for self-pity and sarcasm, I don’t know what I’d do.)
A couple days ago I had a little spotting, so rather than accept t
he fact that this happens every month a few days before my period begins, I spent way too long on the internet researching implantation bleeding. If I could just find that one miracle article that made everything sound right, I for sure would be pregnant instead of so obviously (face breaking out) headed for menstruation.
Alas.
The trick now is not to let myself think that there is something “wrong” with me. An acupuncturist has told me that I have low blood volume (do I have an inhospitable uterine lining?). I’ve had autoimmune issues throughout my life (does my body attack everything it encounters–including sperm?). And here’s the emotional kicker: Do I not deserve to get pregnant (because I’m a big lesbo and an affront to “natural” procreation)? Yeah, PMS can bring out the internalized homophobia in the best of us.
So with a hot water bottle tucked awkwardly in the elastic waistline of my 1993 UofA sweatpants, I will go forth into the Day of Love and await the blood.
Since we know lots of pregnant lezzies (even Jewish ones!), this leads me to believe that a fundamentalist hateful g-d can’t keep an eye on us EVERY month. Someday he’s going to be busy punishing some dude for handing out free condoms, and SHAZAM! We’re pregnant.
Or maybe some peace-loving g-d will kick the other g-d’s ass. In the name of peace, that is.
Hang in there! I’m sorry for your poopy experience, but we just keep truckin’ along til next month, when the waiting will start all over again. I’m working on the story to send to you (not real editing, just name changes and such).
Update, update, update…Or is it pretty obvious?
Unfortunately, another one bit the dust. I used to hate getting my period (nothing made PE in high school more fun), but now I HATE getting my period.