The pregnancy tests keep coming up negative. My midwife says in a week or so test again, and if it I'm still negative, see a doctor for an actual blood test. I wonder if I can ask my neurologist to do it 'cause I see her Friday of next week. Maybe I'll call her office and see if they're set up for that.
I asked her if it might be a hysterical pregnancy or whatever they're called, that oft used plot device of cheap tawdry romances where the girl wants to be pregnant so badly her body starts mimicing the symptoms. She told me that was very rare and very unlikely. And she's known me a long time. She would have a handle on if I were hysterical. Also, I really haven't been thinking about it much until this week. I mean I took the first pregnancy test merely because the appropriate Thursday had passed and I think my body interperates pregnancy tests as a signal to do something. And once it came up negative, I was comfortable with those results and confident of their veracity until Robin (midwife) told me to test again last night. The migranes, cramping, and dizziness started before today and simply haven't ended. I suppose it could be a flu. I have no idea what to do or think. Time itself will iron it out, I know. And either way is fine. I have nothing to worry about. Mountain out of molehill. Bull in china shop. Cart before horse. Hell and high water.
And a fly landed on my cheek this morning.
I am hiding in a tree.
I'm a fragment of the day.
If I weren't, who's to say
Things would happen here the way
That they happened here.
It's the fragment, not the day.
It's the pebble, not the stream.
(I am here still!)
It's the ripple, not the sea.
(That is happening.)
Not the building but the beam,
Not the garden but the stone.
Not a pregnancy.
Someone in a tree.
No eagle soaring through the sky,
Explores as eagerly as I,
The corners of my life.
Ow, damnit. It must be afternoon because the migrane kicks into high gear.
One must accomodate the times,
As one lives them,
I must remember that.