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PMS

My genetic code has never been replicated, there are no mini-me's running around, there never will be.

My monthly period was one great big farce, a mockery, a ridiculous sham: it was regular like clockwork, had all the elements of being "normal", but it never lived up to it's promise of creating life, leaving a legacy for me on my life's journey.

Infertility is a bitch! It is completely random in it's destructiveness, has the attitude of "Nothing Personal!", but bitch, it is very personal: If you're a woman and you can't have kids, that goes to the core of personal.

Yikes, I thought I had made my peace with all this. Apparently not, my period (see link for other slang terms for this http://onlineslangdictionary.com/thesaurus/words+meaning+menstruation,+menstrual+period+(related+to).html) has once again become the bane of my existence.

At 46 she is messing me around again.

I have run the gambit of emotions with her: confusion, anger, betrayal, acceptance... and now I'm just plain pissed off.
  • She cost me money, lots of money, IUI, IVF, ICSI is bloody expensive (excuse the pun). The Cape Fertility Clinic http://www.capefertilityclinic.co.za/index.asp? was like our second home for years  and Dr Klaus Wiswedal was an eternal optimist, bless him. But Destiny/Fate had other plans for us.
  • She has brought me to tears, not PMS-teary  and moody, but a deep sense of sadness: "Why me?" "Am I not good enough to be a mom?"
  • She had me hiding out for years in shame: Is it not the one thing all woman are supposed to be able  to do?
  • She had me question Faith. I  believed without question, still do, because of him, he came to us, a gift from God. (Life always finds a way)
The final verses of this poem reveals that I had finally come to terms with the woman I had become:

The sun shines brightly in the middle of June,
The radio is playing my favourite tune,
No more sad songs of loss and love,
Only songs of inspiration, of gifts from above.

Gifts given by God at my birth to me;
The heart of a wombless mother to be,
The wife of a compassionate and loving man,
Friend to a sister & her biggest fan,
A sister to friends when sadness enfold
And a passionate lover, faithful, but bold.
Proudly South African, in these trying times,
A watchful neighbour, amidst the crimes

An example to young ladies, finding their way
Hip Hip Hooray, ME, I’m here to stay!

And then last night happened:
I thought she was finally done with me, and now she's back for her swan song. And she does nothing in moderation: she came back with a vengeance, leaving me weak and sleep deprived. 

But I'm smiling, she is me and I do nothing quietly. I never take the easy road, I'm always rocking the boat, always searching, questioning. How could I  expect this part of me to be any different? I was built like this, complicated, flawed, but strong and passionate.

I'm ready for the hot flushes and the change, it is going to be epic, wouldn't want it any other way.

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