yesterday, h and i went to the county fair with the coach and our friend dee. it was a day of petting baby chicks and goats and alpacas, riding the ferris wheel, and the best people watching ever.
and so, when i saw the “palm readings $5” tent, i thought, “fun!” i’d never had my palm read before.
there were 2 psychics in the tent, very young, serious girls. h and i both sat down for simultaneous readings. i include this bit of information because it makes me feel a little more skeptical about the whole encounted that followed.
immediately after the vague, “you come from a loving family…you will live a long, healthy life” spiel, the psychic honed in on the bottom of my right palm and started drawing circles. “children,” she said.
now we all know why i walked into that tent. i wanted to be mystically encouraged in my fertility and possible pregnancy. but i was mum about why i was there. promising never to tell bad news, she proceeded to kick me in the gut. “i see children in your life in the coming few years. but they will not be birthed from you. no, you will not give birth. you will adopt children. i see one of them with a problem like autism, but don’t worry. it’ll be all good.”
at the end of the reading, the psychic asked if i had further questions. and so i asked specifically about giving birth. she again looked at the bottom of my right palm and said, “no. i don’t see you giving birth, but you will adopt.”
(h’s psychic told her that she’d have 3 children around her, two of which would be like her own…)
whiskey
tango
foxtrot
i know that a lot of psychics are of the miss cleo school of authenticity, and so i am trying not to put much stock in what happened yesterday. and my psychic may have seen me and h and thought, lesbians? clearly they can’t birth children. i’ll placate her with predictions of adoption.
however, i’d be lying if i didn’t admit my fear that she’s right.
maybe my palms were too sweaty. maybe i was swindled. maybe maybe maybe. 7dpo, and there is no way to know much beyond hope.