Did I tell you about the time I turned down a trip to South America because of my uterus? No? Well, tie it up.
I am not a patient woman by nature. I’m not sure I’ve ever let my toaster complete a cycle without flipping it up at least once to see if it’s done yet. I get up on the train before the next stop is announced. I once swam across a river fully clothed because I didn’t want to waste time walking to a bridge.
That made waiting for my period to return after a miscarriage, well, difficult. Difficult and slow and boring and scary and long. On the one hand, I was nervous about bleeding again. After getting pregnant at eight weeks, at home and unexpectedly, I didn’t want to be faced with a stain on my sheets, the slight chafing discomfort in my back, the bright red flash of loss. I was afraid this echo would trip me, knock me down, and pull me back under the water. And yet at the same time I knew that until I had my period, any chance of pregnancy was unlikely. A wonderful midwife had explained to me that my body needed a reset, a clean-out, and a chance to revive the lining of my uterus before a blastocyst tried to implant itself there again. If I wanted to get pregnant again, I had to get my period.
But did I want to get pregnant again? Was I ready? Was it wise? Can we handle it? My son is still—in his own complicated, six-year-old way—processing what I told him about the miscarriage. My partner was restless and very insecure when I became pregnant. Our house is still small, I’m still getting older, money is still a limited resource.
And then the email came: would I like to go on a press trip to South America? I would travel to the jungle. I would see incredible things. It can lead to a life-changing experience. Images of parrots and bivouacs, acid green leaves and misty forests filled my head. Was this a sign? Should I leave the weight of my grief at home for a week and go on the kind of adventure that occasionally lightened my twenties? Could this be how I filled these dreary weeks, waiting for the bleed? I accepted it immediately. I could be bold. I could be glamorous, impulsive and eager. I can handle bugs and sleep on the floor; hell, I do it all the time here in England by choice.