The TP Tango

You all are wonderful...thank you for holding onto hope for us. She is a tricky lady...I don't think I have ever felt hope the way I have in the past 9+ months--it takes on a totally different meaning for all of us holding her hand until the very last moment...

Sadly, she said goodbye to me late yesterday and traded places with a lazy Aun.t Flo. I knew better than to hold hope's hand too strong--simply because of how sick I was the past few weeks and all the anti.biotics I was on. Honestly, I would have been worried if AF had not showed and we got a b.fp--it would have been a dangerous first few weeks not knowing if the tiny life could hold on through all that my body has been through. So I am thankful for avoiding a possible heartache. And ya'll (can't you just hear that southern twang!) I never POA.S...that took some serious strength! I just wanted to hold onto hope as long as I could, ya know? Why end that feeling too soon--when it was still just a tiny bit possible....

That brings me to the reason for my title today...I told Mook about this thought I had been having the past few days as I waited for AF, and he said "Umm, you might be crossing the line--isn't that kinda gross?" But he's a boy. He's never had to wait for AF. What does he know=) I think I can get everyone to relate to the "TP Tango" otherwise known as the "Toilet Paper Tango" I think we are all over modesty and seemingly embarrassing moments, and this only makes me giggle--so I hope it comes across as humor and not "gross" as Mook fears it might be...

So I share with you my TP Tango--the "superstitious" way I glance towards the Quilt.ed Northern Bath Tiss.ue. It begins about CD 23. I find myself starting the "dance"--I look quite fast as I am sure there is no sign yet--but I must be sure in case it's an early visit. No biggie. So the days progress...I find myself saying a quiet prayer before I glance to the side--"Please be clear!" And then I sigh--one more day of hope!

~tango..cha..cha..cha~

Then the crucial days creep in. These are the days I don't even want to pee. I think to myself--"I can make it one full day without water--no problem." But my strength soon fades, and I guzzle a whole glass...then it's off to the "dance floor." The prayers turn into pleading: "Pleeeasse don't be here AF!"

~tango..cha..cha..cha~

And the tango continues--every time I return to the ladies room, my heart starts to beat faster. I just want one more pee-in-peace. And one more...and one more. Then it's the day. So on months like this, when there are no AF symptoms, I get more confident. I have no problem going to get a morning de-caf coffee. I am not nervous to tango. I can only envision an AF-free dance. But then the confidence fades. I find myself crossing my legs at my desk--holding it as long as possible, because the small twinges are happening. My mind races through the symptoms list: it could be cramps, but it could be my ute expanding!

~tango..cha..cha..cha~

And then the time comes where the trip to the BR is simply unbearable-and that's the trip where the tissue shows some color. Not necessarily red! But color. I still don't let go of hope. I brush off the color as just "something is going on down there." Otherwise known as denial. The color continues. The cramps start getting worse....and at this point, I am drinking as much fluid as I can find, because in my mind, I am going to WASH AF away--she will never have time to arrive! So funny how our minds can be so convincing...

~tango..cha..cha..cha~

Then it's simply "feminine prod.uct" time. No more panty-lin.ers. I have to bring out the big guns. And it hurts--not just physically, but emotionally. This tango has worn me out and has left me with swollen feet and one helluva sweat. But I shall dance again! I've got a great partner!

I am sure we ALL can relate...we all think what we do is so silly or embarrassing, but it's all part of dealing with our hope and grief...and the dream that one day the tango will end with a standing ovation!