Maybe I should just put in some sort of creepy widget that counts down days of bleeding. Just a thought. If I were an escaping slave, the dogs would have caught me by now.
It is now Day 15 of this nonsense and I'd like to have some sort of spiritual epiphany by now. I know, I know, worse things could happen to me. I have an appointment with my gyno this Friday for a checkup. Note to uterus: Thanks uterus, I know you're just healing yourself. Take your time, I don't mind, really!
I know this sounds weird, but after years of analyzing my menstrual cycle, all this blood just reminds me of the stupid hope I used to cling to that an embryo was either implanting or that I was still going to test positive at some point because my friend did or a friend of a friend did. I have thoughts of other women who are having miscarriages, women worried about their early pregnancies. All those bloggy pals whose day depends on what shows up on their pantiliners. I spoke to a friend last week about it and my experience just reminded her miscarriage. Infertile women are obsessed by blood. We look for signs, for portents, we know consistency, range of colour,texture, the smell. When you go for natural treatments, the acupuncturist wants to know all the gory details. Before ttc, I never paid that much attention, but boy, did I learn. I once saw a short film during the African American Cultural Festival (something like that) in Atlanta. Not entirely sure of the name of the movie, but it was great. This young black woman, is about to get ready for a fun weekend with her friends, and her cousin unexpectedly shows up on her doorstep, all crazy and whacked out. She doesn't actually speak, but she comes busting in with luggage and proceeds to demand all her attention and wrecks her weekend. She can't go anywhere without her cousin and when they go to the beach, her cousin refuses to go swimming, so she can't go either. She was very emotional, very intrusive and bratty, but when it was time to go, she just packed her bags and left. It was hilarious.
Hey, man, he's my blood. That's blood, man, you don't turn your back on blood.
Did you ever notice how squeamish men are around blood? My high school boyfriend cut his finger once with a knife and as I looked at the damage, the tall, strapping young man practically swooned. My husband, after watching the vet cut a tumour off our dog's foot, passed out on the floor! Dropped like a sack of potatoes. After the surgery was done. DH still insists he was fine with the blood, it's just cause he didn't eat any food that day. Yeah, okay, tough guy. Whatever. I was supposed to be there so hubby wouldn't have to miss work, but I had to be at the fertility clinic for an ultrasound.
It's in you to give.
In medieval days, monks would bloodlet people to cure illness. How they figured that cured people, I don't know. But apparently, leeches are still in style. When was the last time you donated blood? That doesn't include all the vials you gave at the fertility clinic/blood lab. I used to when I was younger, but at some point my low blood count disqualified me. I've got AB positive blood and I'd love to donate, so I'll work on improving my iron levels.
What are your thoughts on blood?