My Spring

It is spring! Though spring started earlier on in Atlanta, with trees in full bloom, it has just started for me now. The reason is that I am forced to spend the best part of the most beautiful season, with a stuffed nose and irritable eyes, thanks to the pollen in the air. Since I became pregnant, my body it seems, will not accept the fact that pollen are not dangerous, much like how fundamentalist religion views the rest of the world. They (I mean the histamines) quickly swing into action, like over protective rakhee brothers, filling my nose with mucus, and filling in more once I try to empty it. Not caring a bit that their enthusiasm may cause me to suffocate in my sleep. If I had a runny nose I would not much complain, at least even though I need a kerchief , at least I will breath, but I hate it when it feels as if there are 2 stubborn toads in each nostril, refusing to budge even at the threat of blowing up my face from the inside.

So I take my medicines, and nasal sprays, and try not to wander out too much. I watch for the pollen count, and perform my rain dances, in hope that they will ease my sufferings. So even though I love to garden, I am stuck indoor for the best months of the year, sneaking out with a mask, when I cannot bear the suspense that spring solves with its coming. Did the perennials that I grew from seed, really survive the winter, and show life. Did the stupid rabbit, destroy my new beauties before I can see them flower? Should I take my seeded tomato plants for a breath of fresh air?, or bring them back right indoor. Spring, the season that fills me with optimism and joy, finds ways to pull me down. So I decided that I would wait and celebrate spring at my own time. When the rains wash away all the pollen, and the plants have finally borne leaves it is spring for me. Till then it is season of color and life that I see through the window of my house or car. I will still sneak in for a feel of the fresh air, after every rain, but just like my adamant allergies, I will refuse to call it spring, until it has really sprung for me.