Yesterday I fell for that old slut, hope, but when I woke up this morning she was gone.
So, the day before yesterday I was feeling all crampy. Even though there was no sign of spotting when I woke up yesterday, I managed to hold hope mostly at bay. But then, all day long I had to pee. I had to pee so many times at work yesterday that I started visiting different bathrooms, just for variety. And my boobs were still sore. And I was just so tired. Hope perched on my desk and whispered to me all afternoon about my due date, and an upcoming tag sale of baby items to benefit a charity, and how excited Al would be when I told him.
So, this morning. 11 dpo. My bbt was a little lower, but still well above the cover line. I lay in bed arguing with myself about the futility of peeing on a stick. I thought about all the peeing yesterday. I thought about how I did not have to get up once to pee during the night last night. I thought about how sore my breasts have been since 3dpo. I thought about how they weren't very sore at all this morning. I groped myself for awhile, searching in vain for any tenderness, but no, it was gone. I thought about how symptoms can come and go. Sanity and frugality lost, hope won, and I got up to pee on a stick.
It was negative, of course. Completely, unambiguously. I even held it to bright lights and tried to find that faint hint of a line that is only visible by the light of a thousand suns. No, no, no.
I feel foolish. But then, hope pointed out that it might be a little early to test. It's not that early, I told her, and all my symptoms have vanished. She's still whispering in my ear. And I can't quite block her out. So I am feeling (1) not pregnant, (2) hopeful that I might be anyway, and (3) stupid for clinging to that hope.
7 comments:
I can't even tell you how many times Hope has convinced me to pee on a stick or believe her story. Hang in there--I have no good words for keeping her in her place, but just know that you're not alone.
I've fallen for Hope's silver tongued musings as well. Take care.
Hope is a harlot, and she will whisper in your ear until you give in and pee on that damn stick. You're not the first, and certainly not the last, so foolishness doesn't enter into it.
For example: I'm holding hope for you right now that she's actually speaking truth this month. Does that make me foolish? Maybe. But I'll do what I need to do for an IF sister. Good luck.
Good post. Hope is so revered by our society - all those stories about people in hopeless situations who "never give up hope" are held up as some kind of role model. They never tell you how harsh hope can be - how much she can hurt. I've always been the tragically optimistic type - stupidly falling for hope at the slightest provocation. I think the hardest for me in the infertility journey was realizing that I hated hope, the very thing that I believed was keeping me going. I want to say that I hope you get good news soon, but given the topic of this post, it doesn't seem quite right...
I just came across this blog as I am researching BBT and temp spikes without ovulation. It has been a crazy month for sure and as I read your entry I thought I could have written it - perhaps not as eloquently but the feelings are all there. Best of luck - I will stay in touch.
I'll put my hand up too!!
Just found your blog. And I've been there too. Testing even when the temp drops and the boobs are no longer sore. But the hope! She remains until the very bitter end.
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