Fayakun

As with everything, I would like very much to be able to control this. My period isn't here yet and I can't shake the feeling that it will be, so I want to hurry along to that outcome.  So I am blogging, to remind myself that the outcome will be what it will be. Every twinge has me nervous, every hour that passes makes me more nervous. I am trying to take deep breaths and remind myself that the answer will become apparent soon, and it will be as God wills it, not I.

:)

I'm probably kidding myself (hah!) but I don't care at present. This month, of all the months that we could have, SO and I genuinely 'tried'. We may have mistimed the trying, but we tried.

This month, of all the months in the past year, I've not had the type of PMS I usually do. I know it's contradictory, I should have more PMS symptoms, not less. I should be more realistic, and know that if it hasn't happened in all these years, it's not happened now.

And yet, I'm feeling slightly different. My body feels slightly different, I'm feeling more hopeful, and my requests to the universe for signs all have resulted in very positive signs. My period is due in the next few days. Till then, I'm going to remain hopeful. I'm going to smile enigmatically and talk to my uterus and to the little baby that I'd like very much to be growing there. 

Minor Ramblings

Price stickers and scabs, I like picking at them. In fact, that's how you can tell if I've read a book. The ones in my shelves that still have their price stickers on have not yet been consumed. What does that say about me I wonder? That I like a clean back of book? I also like an uncracked spine, feeling somehow a little more respectful of the book, that I'm not forcing it to submit to my will. The other thing it says about me is that I like books.

I also find that most of my friends, my good, close friends, like books. We read, we look for other people's stories, not, I assume, because our stories are not enough. Personally, it is to help my story become a happy ending. I have spent a lot of time with my own thoughts and found, at various points, that books are a distraction, a source of information, and occasionally a source of inspiration.It turns out, that my friends do the same. Why? Because we are constantly making sense of our world, or trying to. Why did this happen, why me, why not me, why do I feel this way, etc. Also it appears that not everybody is like us.

This blog is certainly my attempt to make sense of my world, and who knows, maybe portions of this will be introductions to my autobiography, or a set of essays or something. Always assuming that somebody else wants access to my thoughts.

At present, for some reason, I'm not at all keen on life. I want a long holiday. I want something violently different to look forward to, or to sleep in and do things on my schedule. Maybe will be dealt with by not going to office (i.e. working from home).

The SO and I... we're doing better. He's clarified that he wants to have children with me, but now I'm 36. I'm inclined to collect some money and start the adoption process, while we attempt to get pregnant without medical intervention. Let's see how it goes.

Growing Growing Older and Growing Up

There was a wedding in SO's family last weekend. I know the groom well and his wife is not Indian, so his family had some trouble with the concept. I'm the first girl in this generation of wives, who is not from their community, so I had a sense of what it would be like for her, and did reassure them, that the family is a good one. All well meaning and kind, they want to welcome, just that some of them don't have the words.

It's been a rough time with the SO and I told myself earlier that I'd let February go by completely, not let the bad days be deciding days. I thought that by the end of the month, I'd have a sense of whether I can let him go. The thing is, on the good days, he still won't do anything about having babies. On the bad days... To his credit, he is trying. He is kinder to me and slightly better at putting himself aside when I want something. But then came the wedding. The hardest part of this relationship for me, is that we know each other so well. We can live a very comfortable life without the relationship, but then what's the point, and what about babies?

The reason the wedding even features, is because now, 5 years into the marriage, I am as much a part of his family as he is. Whether it was because the family was trying harder for the foreign bride, or because the children in the family have grown older, more people spoke English now than at the time of my wedding. So that was more convenient and comfortable for me. Also, I've learnt enough of their language to communicate if I have to, but more importantly, to understand conversation without needing translations. In short, to be able to communicate. What this means is, that I actually cannot leave him. This entire family will understand if I say I have to, because he doesn't want children, but that's not the point. I can't actually leave them. So that's one decision made.

Personally, this wedding was ... special. Not because of the wedding, or the family piece, but because of one boy. He's a first cousin of the groom, so his father is SO's cousin. He's 20. I've seen pictures of him and thought he was hot. When I met him, I thought I'd be able to harmlessly lust after him, as some side entertainment at this wedding. He, on the other hand, began teasing me - asking me to serve him more/specifically etc., then being around me a lot, complimenting the way I looked, looking at me, for me a lot of the time. I was flattered. I still am. He made me feel very special. He's 16 years younger than I am, so I've no idea what he intended to do, and in typical fashion, am agonizing about just that. What did he mean, why did he ... This part of the post is my attempt to let go of the thinking and enjoy the way he made me feel. Very special. Thank you boy!