The Semi-Annual Pregnancy Scare.

The Semi-Annual Pregnancy Scare.
Real, take-a-test pregnancy scares seem to strike every six months or so. Make that unwanted pregnancy scares.

This month, I was about 10 days late. Let's all agree that I wasn't overreacting here. 10 days is a long time to be late. Given my [overshare] ridiculously short cycle [/overshare], that basically means it cuts halfway into the next cycle.

(Actually, who am I kidding with the closing of the [overshare] tag so soon.)

Regardless of whether there had actually been any feasible chance of conceiving in any given month, I still have this little sigh of relief whenever I have proof-positive there are no little Julias growing in there. And despite the wretched, crippling pain that coincides with the aforementioned proof-positive, I manage to whisper a silent prayer of thanksgiving to the gods of consequence-less sin. (Of course, marital sex is totally not a sin. In fact, it's biblically recommended. Excellent.) Thank you sweet baby Jesus for giving me such ridiculous inconvenience and blinding pain!!



Maybe it has something to do with the removal of societal/parental shun of pregnancy now that I'm all married and what not and it's uh, socially/parentally acceptable. They don't have Hallmark cards that college students can send home to their parents. "Hey mom and dad, pls. pay the enclosed tuition bill for this semester. Oh, and guess what! You're going to be grandparents! Pls. send extra cash. Thanks."

Maybe it has something to do with my best friends' sweet baby Grace growing curly red hair overnight and totally talking (nothing legible, yet) and the way she smiles at her bestest friend ever (read: whoever holds the Cheerios) whenever you put one in her chubby little fingers.

Maybe it has something to do with all those hours spent pouring over vegan-nutrition-during-pregnancy websites, etc.

Maybe it has something to do with the way my sweet husband gently places his hand on my tummy and apologizes for the female species' lifelong battle with reproductory system-based suffering.

For whatever plethora of reasons, I was completely disappointed to get my proof-positive this month.

Well, make that 99% disappointed. I couldn't stop thinking about that weekend of brandy and margaritas and fetal alcohol syndrome a few weeks back...


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