In between

So, yesterday, as convinced I was that my period was imminent (partial temp drop, and, shall we say, other signs)-- it has not really shown up. Tests are negative but my body is not quite ready to commit one way or the other. So today? I am simply (or not so simply) in between, not knowing anything one way or the other and simply having to wait. There is not much about this that feels simple, and yet, really, when you look at it, there is nothing to Do. I can only Be. This is not my strong point. Not.

Last night I felt so sad, felt myself spiraling near tears. Clomid this month has left me feeling more fragile (as it does) and I want to feel stronger than I do.
I am feeling so scattered, so uncertain - but I want somehow to say that I'm ok. But I think I want to say that more to me than to you. Convince myself that all is well. That I am fine. That whatever happens happens.

And time does pass. I do what I do to nurture myself, to offer myself solace--I lie in bed and watch the sky. Last night there was a big full moon, beautiful and haunting under high clouds. Since the trees here are mostly bare, and the effect was ghostly- those bare branches so inky dark against the moonlit sky. And today birds wheeling are around in big chaotic masses, gathering for migration. I see the last of the leaves flicker with each breath of wind. The sky has been pearly gray since sunrise.

There is a pile of leaves right outside our door at work that crunch and rustle, and I walk in slowly, dragging my feet, loving the sound and the smell.

Today I saved a bird that had spent the last two days flying around above our office between the drop ceiling and the roof- it finally came fluttering down into a closet by my desk and I took it outside bundled in my jacket. It flew away and I felt so relieved. I was not wanting to deal with something broken or dying. I am so much better at other things.

I want to can say I am ok. That I know where I am and where I'm going. But I can't know what my body is not ready to tell me.