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Available May 7! |
For the second time in my life, I'm trying to convince my body it's capable of carrying a child.
(Without flooding myself with artificial hormones, my face grows a 5 o'clock shadow as thick as the dog's. Not pretty or great for snuggling babies, should my body ever decide to produce one.)
I thought it was no big deal, this popping pills thing, but... apparently I'd blocked the memories. About six days into this whole rerun of a fiasco, I became--and I don't know how else to put this--
A woman.
There were... emotions.
When the toddler watched Elmo, I cried.
When the dog peed on the floor, I cried. While simultaneously beating him.
When the microwave sounded, I cried, because there was dark chocolate mug cake with caramel marshmallow filling waiting to soothe my breaking heart.
When the dog peed on the floor, I cried. While simultaneously beating him.
When the microwave sounded, I cried, because there was dark chocolate mug cake with caramel marshmallow filling waiting to soothe my breaking heart.
I'm still not used to it, this whole crying thing. Deep down I refuse to be a slave to the hormones.
I can't completely stop the sudden onslaught of emotion, but I've learned to cover for myself so it doesn't display itself in public. So if you see me fleeing toward the bathroom, it's no longer to check on my five o'clock shadow.
I can't completely stop the sudden onslaught of emotion, but I've learned to cover for myself so it doesn't display itself in public. So if you see me fleeing toward the bathroom, it's no longer to check on my five o'clock shadow.
Oh my gosh, I no longer have a five o'clock shadow!!!
Excuse me while I step into the other room...
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Bekah Hamrick Martin is a proud member of the Scribble Chicks blog & the author of The Bare Naked Truth: Dating, Waiting & God's Purity Plan.
So what's your story about Living with Estrogen? Comment!
So what's your story about Living with Estrogen? Comment!