It always surprises me how heavy and sad I feel when I bleed, like somehow I manage through the month to do a fake-out on my psyche. I trick myself into thinking, no biggie man, I’m not even focused on this baby thing this month, too busy with travel, work, play, bevvies. Then I start to spot and that hopeful little voice inside nudges like a puppy paw, “maybe it’s implantation spotting, it IS on the exact day that that is supposed to happen.” Then the spotting continues until I’m raining red out my tooter and I find myself one sad sucker.
I feel crabby. I feel annoyed at my body for failing me again. :(
Some days, like these, one can only hope to Wait It Out, do minimal damage on yourself/your thinking, your partnership… as if a huge storm is passing through, just stay in doors, let it roll on by, and fear not, the sun will shine again. Tonight tho, it’s like cheeseburgers, Bronco’s and Bad Bad TV for me! Take that uterus.