I don't know if it's the fact that we finally got the house to ourselves after Mr.T's family left. Or if it's Mr.T's embolization from last month having an effect. Or if it's just the summer time playing out it's hot, relaxed rhythm on our bodies. But. This weekend was the Olympics of bedroom gymnastics. And over ovulation time too! It wasn't that forced sex, where it's like, come on we have to do it NOW! And then you force yourself to pretend that you actually want to have sex, when really you'd just prefer to sleep/watch tv/read your book. It has just been happening spontaneously... and it's been wonderful. Finally the big-O doesn't stand for ovulation anymore!
So now I am filled with... hope. And I have more hope than usual, despite my better judgement. Why? Well, I am a little reluctant to share... I think you may consider me a little nutso once I tell you. Especially after my post on fertility charms, crystal penises (should that be peni? or penii?) and Bhutanese fertility festivals. But since I promised to be honest, and well, the damage has probably already been done with some of my previous posts, here it is. I am more hopeful this month that it may actually happen for me because of what happened back in April, in my Le Mois Huit post. Remember the lady who grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes and said 'le mois huit' that's when it will happen for you? Well we're in le mois huit (the 8th month, August) now and so I can't help thinking, maybe, just maybe, all that bedroom gymnastics might just work.
Does that make me
a. pathetic
b. desperate
c. crazy or
d. all of the above?
I'm trusting in this lady's psychic/intuitive ability whatever you want to call it, whatever it might be. In so doing I'm having a little more hope, a little more espoir this time around. Am I setting myself up for a fall, again? Well since I've managed to do that to myself in some way or another with nearly every cycle, I'm not going to beat myself up about it. Hoping and falling has become quite a habit now, one can't seem to exist without the other. So I will continue to hope and hope even more this month, and if I fall? So what. I do it every month. And at least in two weeks I'll know either way and I will be sure to let her know. Her being the lady who gave me this extra hope, who said 'le mois huit'. I told Mr.T about my extra hope this month and why. He smiled and asked me what her name was. Touriya, I said. If she's right, said Mr.T, we should name our baby, Touriya. If it's a girl. We will see.
On another note, I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving you. Dun-dun-duhhhhh. What? Why? Who? Sorry, love being a drama queen. Well I'm not really leaving you for so long. We're going on a quick 3 or 4 day break to the coast, a place called Essaouira. It's a very magical place with a wild coastline and Atlantic waves that break along never ending beaches. We're staying with friends who've rented a small little villa.. they'll be lots of barbecued fish, prawns and lobster, loads of laughter and cool swimming, but sadly no internet. I promise to make up for it when I return with lots of pics. Until then, I wish you much luck in your journeys and hope that le mois huit turns out to be the greatest month for all of us.
