Baby, Baby, Baby (Feb 21st: 1 Day Late)
“Don’t forget to log your cycle!”
My period tracking app nudged me this morning. How could I have forgotten? After the little flurry of excitement after the whole spotting incident, you’d think I’d be counting down the days until my period was due with a calendar and big red marker.
Hilariously, I forgot. Until today.
My period — late for 1 day. I had spotting, potentially explained by implantation bleeding, two weeks ago. Now, my period is 1 day late.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
“You wanted this, NSSITC, remember? You came off the pill. You’ve been keeping the crazy-lady baby-making diary. Writing stuff down that you’re not sharing with the world (but have started to now) in case everyone judges you for it.”
Oh my God, I know, but what if I’m PREGNANT?!
I went to the shop two days ago. Exciting stuff, right? No, not at all, but for me, it was exciting stuff. It was actually the first time I’d left the house for a while and, not only was it all by myself, it was dark too. Dark, rainy, and scary outside. The fact that I made it out at all? Yeah, I’m proud of that. My house has become my prison. I like it, but it’s no good for me. I really, really, really need to get out more. A lot more.
Anyway, I went to the shop. I bought the usual, boring stuff — washing up liquid, milk, something for dinner, etc. For a brief moment, as I looked in the section where the razors are (because it’s about time I sorted out my winter fuzz in time for spring), my eyes lingered on the pregnancy tests and I genuinely considered picking one up. I just … I don’t know. This isn’t the first time that my period has been late. It’s not the first time I’ve had weird spotting in between periods. But it FEELS different. Like, this is the closest I’ve come to a real pregnancy scare in a long time. I’m torn between wanting to get really excited that my insides DO work and crawling under my desk and never coming out again because I’m not sure I want to have a baby now at all.
Of course I want a baby. My broody patch has well and truly hit. I’m a few months away from 32 years of age and I want to have a baby. But, despite being impossible, I would quite like the process to be pain-free, stress-free, and leaving my life relatively unaltered.
HA!
I know, right? I’m thinking of becoming a parent and I’m still coming out with shit like that.
Anyway, I’m only one day late. It’s far too soon to start letting my head get carried away. I’m not even going to bring it up yet. I know that Bear would just get all excited, and then I would get all excited, and then we’d both be all excited … Well, if it were just a false alarm, we’d both be disappointed and there’s really no point in that.
I might not be telling the boyfy yet, but I have Googled like crazy. I know everything there is to know about the earlier stages of pregnancy. I might as well be a midwife. (I’m kidding.)
Anyway, I just thought I’d update you.
One day late. Crikey. Imagine …
This could be it.
Part 1: Baby, Baby, Baby (Six Months Ago)
Part 2: Baby, Baby, Baby (Four Months Ago)
Part 3: Baby, Baby, Baby (One Month Ago)
Part 4: Baby, Baby, Baby (Feb 10th)