Signs, symptoms, and sunshine.

It’s about a two-minute walk from the front door of our flat building to the entrance of the metro. This morning, headed out to my gyno appointment, who did I run into along the way? 

Her. She’s not only my very own personal source of anguish but also a neighbor!

***

I put my iPod on random as I walked home. The first song? Lucinda Williams’s “If Wishes Were Horses.” As in, then “I’d have a ranch.” 

Well, I don’t. But I’ll keep wishing. 

***

Implantation bleeding! I thought, looking down at the toilet paper. Or … a side-effect of this morning’s biopsy I was warned to expect? 

***

“Do you feel any different?” Gilles asked cautiously last night. (So that’s how you get them to ask – you stop talking about it!)

The short answer is no. The long answer is that perhaps, if I touch them to see how they feel, my breasts are slightly more sensitive, but that could be related to the amount of prodding they’ve received in recent days to gauge exactly that. Last time they were very noticeably tender a short nine days past ovulation, while (for those of you not counting along with me) this is day eleven. So their normalness does not bode well, based on my last short-lived pregnancy experience – although should I really be comparing anything to that, given how it all turned out? 

Eh. Nothing much to do except wait to see if my period comes.

*** 

Spring is here, if measured by sunshine if not by the calendar, if one looks out the window instead of at my heart.