I’ve decided to drink wine this evening.
Yellow Tail makes a charming Merlot. A Merlot that has helped a bit. I plan to be at ease by the time I reach the latter half of it. Today warranted that sort of planning.
You see, basically, I got the same “news” today that I’ve gotten before:
Say it with me now: “There is NOTHING gynecologically wrong.”
I’m not sure how many other women are sufferers of menorrhagia. I’m not sure how many other women hold this frustrating condition to themselves. Just about the only thing I am sure of is how much I hate it.
As open and honest as I am with most things on this blog, there are some parts that I just can’t formulate into words.
Let’s see, can I provide a visual?
Yeah,…it probably does, but I gotta get it out or my head will explode.
First of all, one of my usual disclaimers: This post will be rant-like, but you guys are used to that.
Secondly, let me first say, “Hey Beyonce girl, Congrats!”
Alright, now that I got that out of the way….
I’ve been working in education and childcare, officially and unofficially, for the past twelve years. Aside from my personal love of books, it is what drove me to become a a youth services librarian. My interest and love for youth engagement and academic achievement is something that is behind most every decision and viewpoint that I have. Because of this, it is often even rougher to not be a parent. Rougher still when people make distinctions.
It is the conundrum of being Parental, but not a Parent.
So, when I originally became a member of the embattled, tough girls of infertility lifestyle, I thought the best way to make myself strong, was to completely act un-phased by things that were the cliche and highly stereotypical discomforts for infertile women. People assume that we are all textbook cases of teen -pregnancy haters, bitter stepmothers, and weepy weak women who can’t bare to lay eyes on children until they have their own. I was so busy avoiding becoming that woman, that I totally have been blindsided by my newest archnemesis: “Crazy with Anticipation Paranoia Chick”
Seriously, if you haven’t met or become her, consider yourself lucky.
Back when I was still engaged, a fellow bride shared some wisdom from one of her elder family members. It was a list of things every new wife should do to keep house. There, nestled alongside gems like “Never go to bed angry”, was this little nugget,
“Your husband should never know when you are having your feminine time. Keep those things private!”