easter, eostre, estrogen

It's that time again. Time for coloring eggs & hiding them, for talk of secretive, unseen bunnies, for the admiration of tender green shoots, time yet again to marvel at the grace of the tulip, to gnaw on handfuls of cloying jelly beans, and time to make oneself positively ill on Cadbury cream eggs. And for us folks at Chez Wright, it's time to make another kid. Indeed it is.

It was hard to dive in -knowing all that we know now, recalling the trauma of childbirth, glimpsing that faint glimmer of light at the end of the toddlerhood tunnel. We could stop while we're ahead! I could cease with this interminable sense that I am in some kind of motherhood purgatory: neither in heaven (i.e. done with maternity clothes & then fat clothes & then semi-fat clothes, done with giant gushing boobs, done with sleepless nights & groggy mornings...done), nor hell (going through it all again -& willingly!) but just lingering around waiting for my second round. I needed to either fish or cut bait, so I guess it looks like we're going fishing.

I find it highly amusing that my especially fertile days his month falls during an annual fertility celebration. What perfect timing! -how illustrious a date of conception Easter would be! Although, of course, we can't count on anything. Just because we were fantastically lucky the first time does not mean we'll have such good fortune again. But we're trying...