The Period.

The period, the monthly reminder that another month has come and gone without a baby. The damn period. For a long time, during the majority of my twenties I actually celebrated my period. I used to tell my husband, “Yes! We’re not parents!” Ha. How dumb was that, now that I think about it. If I could go back in time and slap myself, I would consider it. 

So, the assumption is correct, I got my period, and despite I knew it would come, I still felt the stab of pain knowing that indeed I am not pregnant. 

I spent almost a year, well more actually, crying my eyes out every time my new cycle would begin. I was frantic. I was consumed, and everyone around me was getting pregnant within a few months. Why wasn’t I?

Everyone, with my best interest in mind I’m sure, would tell me, just relax and it will happen. So I did. I started yoga and pilates, I tried meditation, deep breathing exercises, and sleeping a lot. Guess what...nothing.

Honestly, the whole “relax” thing is bullshit. I was stressed out of my mind when I went through the first cycle of IVF, and I got pregnant with twins. For me this bit of advice is just a waste of breath. It’s funny, your friends and family always want to contribute their tidbit of advice. On top of trying to relax, everyone tells you, you’re supposed to try not to try. This makes no sense at all, honestly, how do you stop thinking about getting pregnant, when all you really want is to get pregnant. You don’t stop thinking about getting pregnant, you’re always still thinking about getting pregnant. Also, how do you explain all of the women that get pregnant during times of crisis and war? Come on.

Now, that I’ve vented a little bit about how pissed off I am my period came, again, I hope others can relate and know they/you are not alone.