"How?!", you ask, tripping over yourselves. Patience dear children, patience.
I haven't had normal, timely periods ever. They were irregular from when I had my first at 13, and I would often go half a year without bleeding once. When I went on the pill at 18, they were finally predictable, but would stop as soon as I stopped taking the pills. I just assumed that I was doomed to a life of irregularity, but...but...
I now have a regular menstrual cycle without the aid of birth control pills. REGULAR. As in, my uterine lining is shed once a month on a REGULAR basis. Sloughing people, sloughing. It's like fucking clockwork, and I looooove it. Yes, I love my period. I'm almost moved enough to refer to it as "Aunt Flo", just so I can cheerily proclaim, "Sorry, I'm unable to swim at the moment, Aunt Flo is in town" ::wink wink:: Oh, how I've always wanted to live this life, the life of the regular bleeder...
Attentive readers may recall that I had no period post-baby until one was thrust upon me courtesy of birth control pills, and it lasted for one whole month. Ah yes...fun times indeed. That was my penance for not having a period in fifteen months, and I think I was a faithful and willing servant. I let my ladybits do their thing, and other than the occasional near-fainting spell during which I had to secure the baby lest I crush her or expire, leaving her with only my rotting carcass for sustinence, I issued nary a complaint.
I'm letting myself think that perhaps, just perhaps, this regularity might mean that my innards are not as dysfunctional as they used to be. I suspect my hopes will come crashing to the ground if I decide to attempt getting pregnant again, but it's fun to be optimistic if only for a little while.
This glimpse at physical normality has lead me to think more about natural pregnancy. You know, the kind that doesn't involve this:
That's my Baby Lab. I cooked up a P. using all that shit.
I was reading about a non-infertile blogger's recent pregnancy, her second. I was jealous of course, even though I can't say I fancy a pregnancy of my own at the moment. Her level of ease won't come naturally for me, I'm almost sure, even with this recent physiological perfection that I'm experiencing. I think I'll always be jealous, but most noticable in its absence was the pang of bitterness I so often felt before. Before, pre-P.
I guess it seems logical that my bitterness would wane somewhat, now that I have the prize, which, by the way, shit in my bathtub tonight. I just never thought I would reach that point, but I'm glad I have. Even though it's my nature to be bitter and cynical on so many matters, I always felt horrid for begrudging women their pregnancies. I think back to posts where I complained about others' fertility, and I think how I must have seemed like such a hypersensitive, callous bitch.
I can't say unequivocally that I'm over this. I would love to be, but I suspect it would only take a few negative cycles until I would be back into crone mode. It's almost an unfathomable feeling for me - not getting prickly about someone's pregnancy. Can you imagine such a world?