i wake up with that dread feeling in my stomach. it didn’t happen. again.
before i stir, before i am too active to raise my temperature, i reach for the thermometer. talking myself out of any residual confidence and shaking my head free of hope. i stick the cold, metal end under my tongue, propped up against my back molar- the “sweet spot” for basal readings. or so the thermometer package tells me.
the longest minute of the month.
in this minute i want more than anything for the little screen to tell me my insides are cooking up a tiny embryo. i want life inside me. i want my body to be dedicated, every cell, every gland, to the nurturing of tiny fingers and toes. i can’t control this desire. no matter how much i argue with myself; no matter how much i read, research, remind myself, the voice of desire will never be quieter than the voice of reason.
my thermometer rings her alarm, i peer through barely-awake eyes.
not pregnant. again.
i stood too close to the humming microwave; i had that half glass of wine; i forgot one or two days of vitamins. all the things the books tell me to refrain from, i have done. this is why i’m not pregnant.
how can i be so stupid? so full of pointless hope? i know my body. i cannot unknow it, just as soon as i cannot unknow the alphabet. yet, every three weeks i am second guessing myself. my breasts hurt here, but not here. i am forgetful; i always am. i am weepy; it’s just stressed. i feel cramps. i read too much into normal things.
i don’t want it enough. the pains, the pulling, the tenderness. i remember it all and, for half a second of weakness, i was thankful it isn’t my body enduring the changes. this is why i’m not pregnant. i don’t want it enough.
my marriage isn’t where it should be. i’m not respectful enough of my husband; i don’t communicate well enough, so how could i ever again be a mother and have a successful marriage? babies put a strain on marriage and ours is strained enough with three kids. i am selfish for wanting a baby more than anything. this is why i am not pregnant.
God still has so many lessons to teach me. how can i obey while attending to life, a son, a husband, a job, and a baby? if i haven’t proven myself faithful in small things; i will not be able to prove myself faithful in the big things. God must know i have other things which need my attention more. this is why i am not pregnant.
my insides begin to ache with piercing pain. a constant reminder of what i am not able to do, right now. make life.