Are you there God, It's me Paula?

Women spend half their lives hoping to see blood in their knickers and the other half praying that they don't. From being a late bloomer who (excitedly) began bleeding at 14 to becoming like every other woman not ready to give up their selfish lives, I would anxiously await the arrival of backache, tummy ache, insecurity, clots the size of quarters...I'd moan but secretly smile. Ahh, something I can count on. Old faithful. Then when the decorators failed to arrive last year and I managed to pull my jaw up off the bathroom floor I spent 41 weeks praying that I would not see any blood in those knickers (well, the thong that became the knickers, that became the granny pants). 

It happened once during the pregnancy. I was about 23 weeks and was peeing for the 18th time that night and saw a tinge of something pinkish. A quick trip to the doctors the following morning and a thousand newly made promises to God en route -everything was fine. No more bleeding but 18 more weeks of praying every time I pulled down those knickers. 

Then, 5 weeks after Olivia was born an old friend greeted me. I'd missed her. I wanted her to visit every month until this fickle being changed her mind again. Until such a time I was determined to enjoy our time together. We were old friends. We went back a long way. I've seen her 5 times since, each time staying for no more than 4 days. Low maintenance. Just a 2 tylenol on the first day kind of a girl. 

She's usually punctual. I wonder what's keeping her...