Well it IS May…or, Internal Shark Jumping

You know it’s May when half the female characters on television get knocked up…or think they are. Bwahahaha.  Sweeps and cliffhangers to herald in summertime fun.

I have my own cliffhanger every month of late. (Excuse that pun. Trust me, it’s a pun. Read on to find out…if you dare.)

The last four or five months I have been absolutely convinced I am pregnant for about a week out of the month.  My body is shooting off all sorts of signals that go way above and beyond normal PMS. I am nauseated, achy, exhausted, and my temperature jumps up significantly.

(Why am I temping, you ask? Hope, desperation, boredom…pick one.)

The lame game of Could I Be? is a small glimmer of excitement in between my usual glamorous activities of wiping noses and going to Costco. Alas, if only Costco sold tests in bulk. I am testing like crazy these days. Chain-testing. Nervously huddled in my bathroom, already planning my next test. Hoping I don’t smell like pee. I am hyper-aware of every twinge, tingle, and zap in my nether regions.

Obviously, my tests have been and continue to be negative. We’re using birth control, although not a method that is as effective as the pill….my newfound PMS symptoms are, most likely, a sign of one of two things: my fibroids are back on attack or my Baby Fever is bigger, better, and is exacerbated by a few things.

I have written here about my desire for child #3. But I’m getting towards the top of the hill. I’m 38-and-a-half. That half starts to matter. I was considered a (medically) geriatric pregnancy last time, so this would inch me towards Biblical age. My kids are great, I enjoy motherhood, and I loved loved loved being pregnant.

Motherhood and I dance together pretty well.

The Daddy dances pretty well, too, but he’s just not into having another one, as I’ve mentioned. I respect that and remember that this is not television. There will be no oopsies, there will be no trickery.

In quieter moments, I also know that some (not much, but some) of this feeling comes from feeling lost. For the first time in three years, I am not actively working on or in a production. I have always loved the act of creation in one form or another…and theater distracted me for a long while from wanting another nose to wipe.

Also, I feel old these days. Being pregnant makes me feel young. I’m grasping desperately at youth while trying to claw away my wrinkles, age spots, and fogeydom.

So I play this game with myself every month lately. I ignore the multiple negative tests and dream my little dreamy thoughts. Then I hit about day 28 and start all over again, a little less hopeful.

I know the game will end soon enough.

It’s like having my own personal Neilsen sweeps every month.

Maybe my uterus will start bring back Kings. I liked that show.


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