Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Rattle is for Me

I ate veal last night but that's not what has me feeling pukey today. 

I've felt a little bit pukey for the last three-four weeks.  That on top of sore boobs, some soupy downstairs symptoms and an abnormally light week early period, I thought that buying a pregnancy test would be an intelligent idea.

Thing is, as many of you have seen the photo evidence of, I've had a tubal ligation. 

After three pregnancies and three births, all spaced around five years apart, I've had my fill of childbearing.  The pregnancy part ain't bad.  I like being pregnant.  My body bursts forth with all this creative baby-making energy and I feel sexy as all hell despite all my new body hair.   Not enough room for actual penetrative sex after five months, but growl, cougar time!

Unfortunately raising small children in middle age kills the cougar dead.  Nine lives all snuffed out when sperm meets egg.  Rice baby cereal is probably the least sexy substance on the planet and for several months a mother swims in the stuff.  Then for the next 18 years she keeps trying to scrub dried remnants of it off the kitchen counters.

Did you know that the rate of tubal ligation failure at my point in life is 13 in 1000 women? 

Lucky 13.  Luck runs my way too.  I've conceived whilst properly using a condom and I've conceived whilst properly using the birth control pill.  Conceiving after having my fallopian tubes hacked and burnt would line up right proper.

Before we insert any appropriate expletives, let's go back a couple hours to when I was collecting pee in a cup.  There are far less mistakes if you plop the test into a cup rather than hold it in your urine stream.  Less splashing and less urine needed in general.  In the spirit of the moment I chose an old sippy cup that I hadn't thrown away yet and forced myself to pee.

Wait...no...let's go back one hour past that when I told my husband at the grocery store that we should buy a pregnancy test to at least rule that out as the cause of my symptoms. 

Hoo boy.

That went over pretty well, right after he held himself back from vomiting in a dump table full of purse size bottles of hand sanitizer.

What's more is that in a small town, where everyone knows everyone else and there is only one store to purchase such things, buying a pregnancy test is not an anonymous experience.  Any moment now I'm expecting a congratulations on Facebook.

...and in reply to that I'd have to say....

I'M NOT PREGNANT!

I feel bloaty and sore and headachey and hungry and horny and pissy and pukey, which probably means that I've got something new and fun going on with my ever fluctuating hormones, and that I should go to the vagina doctor again, but I can rule out kid number four.

Gonna go throw away that sippy cup now.  No one's gonna be using that thing for any reason now.

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