The sun is out and Olympia sparkles. I feel the dull burn of pleasure prickling my skin as I wind my way around the Westside, stopping occasionally to look in stores. I love a hot summer day but here they are sparse. A trace of a smile plays on my lips. And I shiver, because I know it will be short-lived.
I think I’m about 10 days past ovulation. This cycle was a rough one; it wasn’t easy to time intercourse with our trip and my fertility signs not lining up. The D&C has screwed up my natural rhythms even more than my second tri D&E two years ago. Probably in a couple of days I’ll take a pregnancy test but my gut says the miracle hasn’t happened this month.
I am losing this war of willpower vs. my own body and it’s a terrible feeling. I’m old and weary. There has to be more than this.
I have a vision in my head of my child. I’m not sure if it’s Molly, but she is a girl because Molly was. Fine black hair, the tilted Asian eyes. Always she is crawling away from me, faster and faster until she resembles an insect scuttling across the wood floors. I give chase every time but she is slippery and I am weak from fighting and always Geoff is beside me but when I call out to him he doesn’t see.
The universe is heartless. I see my doctor on the 24th, I don’t think she’ll be able to help us but we’ll give it a try.