
gala. (via Elle Moss)
The days have been coming and going. Slipping by seemingly without any change, yet marking time.
Last week was my birthday. I'm not one for making a big fuss about it and I don't mind becoming a year older. What I do mind, however, are odd numbers. I just turned 31, though I'd prefer to skip right on over to 32. It has a much better ring to it, don't you think?
More importantly, and despite how much I do not want to acknowledge it, I am reaching a milestone that is bigger than a birthday.
This is the cycle. The one that sticks you with that label - infertile - Unlucky Number 12. Despite being an even number, it is not one that I'm particularly fond of right now. And wouldn't you know it, on this most pivotal of times, my lovely husband once again had to fly off for a business trip. So, I fear there will be no climactic ending for this cycle . . .
I really hoped it would not take this long.