Every two weeks of every month I wait for blood. Blood is bad. Groping for my jeans while staring at the ceiling works for a few days but inevitably 40 years of habit brings me face-to-face with my crotch and in that instant, my fate. Much like insisting on dessert after every meal, I can’t change my habit so I changed my wardrobe. Black covers red. Black panties allowed me to pull up my big girl pants and move on. Black panties saved me.
Every two weeks of every month since October 2006 I’ve been waiting for blood. Black Panty Salvation is about infertility, miscarriage, pregnancy and motherhood but not that in order nor in equal parts. Thank you for joining me on the hunt.