It’s a little after 5 am and I am up because as a cis female, I have to bleed to death almost once a month to satisfy the Gods…… or you know: biology. My Aunt Flo has always been fast heavy a hard witch. She arrived at a summer party and has been inconveniently dropping in ever since.

Aunt Flo and I used to be on a very strict schedule. Sometimes I’d even swallow the next set of white pills and skip the pink ones and just keep her at bay another month longer because she has always been a very unpleasant house guest. Before she arrives my body has its own ritual including cramping bloating constipation mood swings. It’s actually a really good time for absolutely no one.

My husband just told me to get some rest while I can: he is so sweet. He has woken up with wet unders I’m sure but never endlessly and his doesn’t stain……anywho.

I typically prepare for Auntie by taking benefiber everyday: tracking her in my phone: preparing with at least one box on tampons (plugs) super or larger and at minimum a panty liner. At most one of those Freida post partum pads: iykyk. I am obviously not sponsored but they are so big and effective. Literally a catch all.

I can’t take the little pills anymore. Turns out aside from all the medical warnings and labels now I have a medical condition that makes it extra dangerous for me to take the little pills. I am also not supposed to smoke: or sit on my legs crossed: or sit for long periods of time. Ahhh circulatory system-blood.

My Aunt is usually a timely woman I plug her dates into my health app and that window where the light pink is red is almost always when you show up now. I swallow a different pill- baby aspirin and yes I know that is. Blood thinner: yes I know that is the point: but yes it does make me bleed 2x as much as before. And yes it is a nightmare to the point I am complaining about it in a blog on the internet because that is what I paid for this for. This is why I have this: FOR ME.

I joke that men don’t understand the natural anxiety of cis women because they don’t sit around knowing their body will bleed.

The title is ice ice baby: so this all comes back to my little fro-yos. IVF is such a weird weird process. Having two 5 day old zygotes in a big freezer somewhere is a huge psychological toll.

They might not even unfreeze: but if they do and they are implanted that is how I have my two babies right now. Except these two are fresh never frozen. I joke they are ‘mostly homegrown’.

Who am I to think I deserve another baby? Who am I to ask that of the family that helps us? The world is made for what I have right now: a family of 4: 1b 1g and two parents. Do I just want to make life harder on myself? Is this sabotage or a part that wants me to suffer?

Or is it just that I love this so incredibly much. Their faces, how they grow a little each day. The giggles. All of it. I’m only 1 year down and I miss it and I think of them having the opportunity to teach and hold and love a younger sibling and I just absolutely want it.

Then I worry again and the picture changes to me being too tired to play: being unable to pick them up and carry them even one at a time. And the bubble bursts and I realize it’s not wrong to admit defeat. To say that could’ve been and who knows maybe even will be.

Right now I want to just enjoy them. I couldn’t plan for them. I can’t possibly plan for another. So hands up take the wheel: I am not in a place to intentionally so that but if it happens: His plans not mine have taken me this far. I can trust in that.

Amen. Peace love and pixie dust.