My Leading Man left on a three week vacation to visit his family. I am home alone and while I am sure I will miss him, I am looking forward to some time alone. Going to fill my days with yoga, exercise, writing and friends. Lots of time to myself means lots of time for reflection .
Monthly Archives: November 2012
October 25 – Ow That Hurts!
It has been a week of tests culminating in a rather painful one today. Not to bore you all with the details (but isn’t that what this blog is about?), but today’s test was to ensure that WHEN I get pregnant (because I will) my body is able to carry a baby…and after a very uncomfortable procedure it is confirmed that everything is operating effectively. So bring on baby!
October 11 – Thinking Tangerine
Despite a super luxurious masage over the weekend my lower back is hurting. Maybe my monthly visitor is on its way and with it the barrage of tests and “procedures” I need to perform on the path to babyville will begin. Not excited about doctors or hospitals. More excited about decorating a baby room. Thinking tangerine.
October 5 – It’s Not The Green Pants Fault
It’s not the green pants fault. I should really wear them again. Besides, colored trousers are in fashion. Paired with a black chunky necklace, a black bebe top and my swede heels again and I am ready for a night on the town. Too bad my cousin’s wife ruined it for me by telling me how fertile she was. In the most annoying, high-pitched, extremely dramatic, Bollywood actress accent, she says “The minute we decided to have a baby I became pregnant the veeerrrrryyyyyy same night! I am soooooo fertile! I have to try so hard to not get pregnant.”
Well good for you bitch. That fertility you’re bragging about gave you that big ass too. Don’t hear you bragging about that.
October 3 – Less of A Woman?
While I am at work the idea of having to undergo fertility treatments hardly crosses my mind. When I come home I can’t help but feel a little less womanly for not being able to conceive naturally. I try not to focus on it. Move on. Doesn’t matter how my children come to me. It matters that they come.
The New Indian Mom 