My period finally came. I was wondering if and when it was going to happen. My body has cycled off and is preparing for the eventuality of nurturing another life – just like Henry never happened.
My body betrays me. I’ve put everything on hold in my life, and I mean e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. How can my biology do this to me when I’m not ready? How can my womb be willing to do it all over again when mentally and emotionally, I’m still in that delivery room, I’m still seeing my child, born dead, I’m still saying goodbye.
It explains my mood in the last week, though. I’ve been irritable and pissy in general in the last month, almost in its entirety. But in the last week, I’ve been shooting laser beam daggers with electrified bees from my eyes with higher frequency.
I’ve been the Sandy of Sainte Anne de Bellevue and the lives of my little family. And now I know why (sorry guys). I’ve been gracefully selfish, too, feeling and even saying that if you can’t handle my mood, then buck up princess, or get out of my way.
How could my body do something so normal as to have a period after I forcibly ejected my baby from my womb a month ago? F*ck off, body.