So I’m trying to get pregnant. Tonight I found out that, for another endless month, I’m not.
Trying to get pregnant is like a really fucked up game of hide and seek.
“Oh man, I see you in there, I’ve got you! I’m coming for you!”
And you walk towards that light shining in your closet.
And maybe one day you feel a little queasy, or your boobs kinda feel sore.
And it’s like turning the knob. That fucker is right in your sights.
But when the inevitable happens and you crack that door instead of a giggly little bundle of joy you’ve found stained panties and a feeling of disappointment in yourself.
I should be grateful. I’ve always wanted to have kids in my mid-20′s so I started young and haven’t had to wait too long compared to some. My husband and I have been at it for a year and change. I’m type-A though so things not working as planned is a no-go for me. I demand a baby, and Mother Nature laughs.
That’s why I’ve decided to chill. It’s not an easy decision, because control is so delicious and I love it so much. Control is like my Oreo stash, I keep going for it but I know I should let go. I just suddenly decided I was going to make some changes. I got pretty sick for about 2 weeks and was out of work because of it. I had nothing to do but be miserable and contemplate life.
I didn’t want to be sick! Why couldn’t I control my basic bodily functions? Suddenly I couldn’t breathe and couldn’t talk and my insides felt like soup. It was uncomfortable and I wanted out!
I broke. I snapped. My brain was suddenly working at a lower capacity and I realized that I liked it.
So now I’m letting go. I’ve got a lot to make up for though, so I decided to start a blog to share some thoughts and feelings, and maybe a little fiction. I know it’s just a few words within the vast void that is the internet, but it’s a big step for me and I’m pretty proud. Be proud of me dammit! I can’t share this blog with my parents so I can have their praise.
That’s because I want to talk about non-parental topics like my uterus and all the sperm I pump into it. Not just that, but fictional people’s sexual organs too! That I write stories about! Also, weed. I loooooooove weed.
So thanks for reading, you old so-and-so. Until next time,
