This is one of those post that you dither about actually hitting publish on… but since I wrote about trying I wanted to share this.
I hope it isn’t something that offends. Also, time has passed since I wrote it and I do want to remember how this feels and felt.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Time passes by.
And suddenly you realise that the freaky hot feet you had on Saturday night that should have meant that your period arrived the next day, because that is what happens every month, hasn’t led to your period arriving.
And today is Thursday.
Which is quite a lot of days.
Which is not a bad thing. Or a good thing. Its just a thing.
But then there is a tiny part of my brain – the analytical part noting that Sunday to Thursday is a few days.
Because despite a clockwork cycle this is a bit different.
And nothing like before despite having had two babies.
So probably its just a mix up of dates and anyway because we weren’t trying properly and Mr Muddling was travelling a lot recently.
There is a chance, a moment at which ships did pass in the night.
I find myself waking at 5am the last few days which is something unusual. But it could be stress about the horror meeting this week and this had been a horrid work week.
And so I find myself having to have a conversation with Mr Muddling that flags that this could be something or nothing.
Which is a first given we only realised I was pregnant with both the others when I started throwing up (I had a few chemical pregnancies so I don’t go in for pregnancy tests really or at least not until way after you need a pregnancy test to tell you are pregnant although to be fair I’ve never twigged its always been Mr noticing that I can’t keep anything down and then there’s the whole need acupuncture to keep carrying a baby thing…)
So actually I know nothing about this stage of affairs really – I’ve never been here.
And in normal circumstances I’d laugh this me out of the room but yet, after all that has happened, I cannot, cannot stop myself hoping.
So this is another post of nothing really…
As you were.
I assume I’ll be back really soon telling you that I’m a hysterical moo…
But it won’t be until I’ve spent a bit of time mourning what might have been because…
Because the thing that is so hard to admit is that at 5am when I wake up, like I never really do that often except when I’ve been pregnant, I may lie in bed quietly hoping, wishing and wanting and imaging that this might be more than it almost certainly is.
And those dreams, and those wishes, are going to be hard to push away because they didn’t not exist.
And I know that compared to so many other people I’m lucky. So lucky. That I do have two fabulous daughters. Two wonderful girls.
But that’s for another post – today I’m being selfish and introspective.
And then there’s a part of me that worries that this worry about pregnancy is a false hope and that actually this is change to the normal is a sign that I’m going through the menopause, early as every other woman in my family does.
So am I delusional, menopausal or is this something?
And so despite my body giving me every sign that this might be something, it was nothing. I’ve even taken pregnancy tests so sure was I that sperm had met egg… but it hadn’t.
It was obviously the impact of stress and worries and now I find myself worrying that these changes to my cycle are a sign the menopause is starting – because I really need something else to worry about, and then there’s the whole what to do about Baby3? Do we? Should we? Could we?