OK, so that's one week, then there was, oh.... OK..... yeah, so that makes it.... 34 days? Hmmm....
I'm late. Yay! I'm late! I have been nauseous. Nah. Can't be. This is just my brain taking revenge for refusing to eat that snickers.
Still..... 4 days late.
I'm not testing.
Nope. Not gonna' do it.
OK, but not until tomorrow morning. Yes, tomorrow morning because then I can spend the rest of today going back and forth about possibilities and...
- dammit, I know I'm not. Maybe.
I totally won't be able to sleep tonight you know. I should test and be done with it.
-No, totally better to wait until tomorrow. Because I'm not. Not really. And I'm going to be horribly disappointed when it comes up negative. I have to stop getting my hopes up. Because it sucks when that second line refuses to pop up.
4 days late though...................
-4 days is nothing. Talk to me when it's been 2 weeks.
Shut up you negative Nellie. 4 days is late and that's enough.
-Moron. 4 days is late for normal people. You? 4 days is nothing. You're not. So go play with Hurricane and wipe that stupid look off your face.
I'm so going to stay away from mirrors if you're going to talk to me like that. Assface.
- Whatever. Don't come crying to me when it comes up negative because I told you so. Dingus.
Screw you, I'm testing....... shit. Negative.
-Told you so.
Bite me bitch.
I hate trying to get pregnant. No, that's not entirely true. It's the waiting in between failed attempt after failed attempt. And the above conversation, which I have had several times now, is why I held off telling anyone that we were trying again. Because this stuff makes me crazy. Um.... crazier.
It's why I held off mentioning it here. I mean, it's been what? 2, 3 months since I mentioned it? And already, here comes the crazy.
Thankfully, this time I skipped telling my family that we were trying again because the thought of anyone calling to ask me if I'm pregnant yet makes me want to punch someone.Sometimes I hate me.