I hate the phrase “Aunt Flo” and TOTM, and other such 7th grade expressions of my menses. I just call it “shark week”. Because I’ve evolved to at least the 9th grade, and think it sounds funnier and more obtuse than a mundane “Aunt Flo”. According to my calendar its about 3 days out, but I’m hoping that its more like 6 or 7 days, because I’d like to not have to drop my drawers on a Saturday, the only time my husband, stepdaughter and I have time together.
After a solid 2 week break, yours truly will be featured under the Big Top, at the Circus, sans pantalon ( french for “without pants”) starting the end of this week. I may rethink this sentence later because it sounds less like a circus and more like some kind of drunken bachelor weekend in Tijuana.
With my 5th month at the Circus, comes the beginning of a second “package” of cycles, the anxiety that last cycle will be precedent setting for all future cycles, the no follicles part, not the awesome blastocyst part. And my birthday. Which I have always hated.
Why do I hate my birthday? It’s another year gone with no child or pregnancy, it’s another year closer to menopause, and mostly it’s because I was twins, and my twin died. It’s a funny thing to be a single surviving twin. People talk about that special connection twins have, and I dont know if its real or not, but I’ve spent most of my life, wondering where he is and why he left me. A weird thing to think about someone you never met.
8 weeks or so before my mother was due with us, she tripped and fell over an ottoman, and went into an early labor. They didn’t give Caesarians out like party hats in those days. She had 3 other kids vaginal so she gave birth to us that way as well. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and so he was stillborn. Consequently my birth certificate also serves as his death certificate.
Twins run strongly in my family. For 5 generations the youngest daughter has had a twin, always fraternal, always a boy, and never has the boy survived. My younger brother broke this cycle with fraternal twin boys, both of whom survived and flourish.
Secretly I’ve always wanted twins. But at this stage, I don’t want to be greedy. I would be happy with one healthy normal baby.
When I start writing those posts I don’t always know where they will end up. Sometimes its something I’ve half planned and sometimes its a stream of consciousness I should probably do a better job of trying to control.
There is a name for months where there are 2 full moons. They are called “Blue Moons”. The last week of March will bring my second period in a month. REALLY? Who decided this? I’d like to speak to a supervisor!
I guess it’s a proverbial blue moon. Blue moons are rare and considered lucky. Maybe I will get a good cycle, with several mature eggs, all of which become high quality completely healthy blasts. I’d settle for an easy uneventful, successful cycle with a single healthy blast.