Losing Track of Time

I guess I mean the title in two senses of the sentence, or for two different reasons.

It feels like I’ve lost track of time, the past year has flown by so fast that I truly wonder where some of it has gone, but I still know how long has passed and how long I have left until Elvis’ first birthday (15 days at time of typing). I met a mummy today who brought her 10 week old to a baby group. I have grey-tinted glasses and sat there wondering how on Earth she was functioning because I was no where near that together 40 weeks ago. Except I was at groups by that point, too, so I couldn’t be as un-functioning as I remember.

What I’ve truly lost track of is when I last had my period. According to my diary it was two months ago, but I know I had one last month, I just can’t remember when. Since my periods returned at 4 months post partum, I’ve only ever been two days late and I’m pretty sure that I’m passed that now. For when I guess I had my last period.

I don’t want to fall back into my old habits because, come on, I got my baby, I cannot freak out and have my world collapse every month that I fail to get pregnant because I have to look after him and, oh, yeah, I have him! I’m not even 100% sure I want a second right now. Maybe ever. Obviously, if it happens, it happens. I figure after being classified as having unexplained infertility, we’re risking  it every month but I still believe in my head that it won’t work. We’ll need a doctor and drugs again, if we choose to do that.

Yet I still have hope, I think, every month. Every month I wonder if it could be. Every month that I have no sign or symptom (because my cycle has changed since Elvis), I wonder if it means I could be. Every month I wonder if I could cope with a second, I hated the newborn phase and feel like I barely survived; Could I do that again with a toddler in tow? So far, there’s been no breakdown when my body has failed yet again.

Has my body finally succeeded? Or is it tricking me? Is my body trying to break me like it did for three years solid? Maybe if I had marked last month in my diary things would be much clearer now. If my body is tricking me right now, will that much feared breakdown occur? Or will I just brush it off because I no longer feel like a failure every month? How can my world come to an end when my period starts when my world is my son?

This is just my body stressing me out on purpose, isn’t it? Making me worry over nothing? Making me think about all of the newborn hell so much and wishing it could have been different for those first 3 or 4 months. I’m not the cliché, am I?

~ Persephone M

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