Waiting on waiting

3/29/12 Sunny, warm, kids in the swimming pool for the first time this season, husband out of town

The odd thing about a missed period is that in and of itself, it is completely inconclusive. As I sat in the fenced in backyard, drinking a beer in the hazy late afternoon, I wondered that I might be pregnant, since my moon flow did not occur that morning. Should it occur today? Did I get the days wrong?

I felt crampy, bloated, experienced a pretty intense mood swing, exactly like when my period should start, yet by all measures, I was now officially "late." It would be my last day drinking, unless my blood flow started, a farewell of sorts to being a singular person. Two and a half years had passed since my youngest weaned and I became a person again instead of nourishment. I could drink freely, take medications, whatever, and it would not have any physical impact on anyone else. Honestly, it was fantastic to take a few years off from having a child attached to my breast or within my body. I won't lie, I'm going to miss being a singular person. No matter, though, because it will be worth it, a minor sacrifice of 2-3 years for the privilege of raising a child, of growing our family.

Here's the tricky part...there was no joy. I wasn't testing because I wanted to feel the way it's supposed to feel before all those newfangled home pregnancy tests. And there was no joy, no celebration, no confirmation. Simply waiting. Waiting to see if my period would show or not. Waiting to see which symptoms I would experience first. Just waiting on waiting on...Time to pass, I think. Enough time to pass that it is unlikely that my period was just late. Could be days or weeks before any definitive signs could show up. I decided Time would be Monday. If I had nothing by Monday (five days late), I would know that I was pregnant.

What an ambiguous state of being. To feel *exactly* like you're starting your period, yet not having it. Totally expecting blood flow, yet none came. Afraid to get your hopes up, still unable to keep a little ray of hope from peeking in. I might be pregnant. There might be life within me. If I think about it for more than a second, I feel my maternal energy raise. I could be pregnant right this very minute.

The Goddess speaks through the waiting. In ambiguity, there is room for both hope and doubt. As long as there is room for hope, there it will be. Let there be hope in our world, where it can flourish, and love may grow.