Piss on a stick

– 3:33 pm

Liza’s been complaining about a significantly more painful Premenstrual Syndrome (PMS). I don’t know how that’s even possible given how bad her symptoms tend to be. So that really is saying something.

We found a hot water bottle helps some, softening the belly cramps and deadening some of her (lower) back pain. I learned (the hard fucking way) that the best way to cope with her mood swings is to say ‘yes’ and agree to everything. It doesn’t need to make sense. And it doesn’t have to. Put all logic away. Nod and keep it simple. It’s for your own good. These are the things I reinforce to myself.

Premenstrual syndrome (PMS) refers to changes in mood and emotions, physical health, and behavior that develop between ovulation and the start of your period (roughly the 2 weeks before your period) lasting until a few days after your period begins. These changes show up consistently each month, and have some impact on everyday life and regular activities.

Today I asked how she was feeling. She said her period was late, a few days late. I didn’t know you could be pregnant with PMS symptoms, which she confirmed. She’d felt pregnant before, pre-Antoinette’s wedding in Brussels but the test came back negative. “Go piss on a stick then”, I said. She laughed and left to buy a “stick”.

The truth of the matter is, I am equally indifferent to having or not having children, 50/50. I could swing either way. Having one wouldn’t necessarily give me a greater sense of responsibility. Obviously, there’s more to it. But I could also fully get behind someone else’s dream. Liza’s in this case. If it makes her happy, then I’m all for it. I am under no illusions however as to how challenging this is meant and going to be. There are case studies all over this apartment block to choose from. I have also concluded that raising an upright and decent human being is an endeavour one cannot be entirely prepared for. Part of the prep is in the process. Again, these are things I tell myself.

I stayed in the basement trying to complete a crypto trade. She crept up and stood next to me. This time, I wasn’t startled. She could barely get her words out before bursting into tears, “I’m pregnant”, throwing her face into both palms. I met her with a big hug and growing excitement. She’s happy. We’re happy.


The doorbell rang not too long ago. Liza signed for the bouquet. It’s from her dad. Turns out, it’s also her ‘Name Day’ today. I don’t pretend to know what that even means. I googled it and stopped reading after the word “Christianity…“. The gesture is a great one however.