Temps have been falling the last two days, and the big fat one-liner this morning pretty much drove the point home for me.
I usually wait at least a few more days longer to test - mostly because experience has taught me that taking a pregnancy test is a surefire means to bring on AF. But I didn't want to play the mind game of "What if this is just an implantation dip?" with myself like I do so many other cycles, so I nipped hope in the bud. I realize this is terribly negative of me, but it's a self-preservation thing. Prolonging the hope = prolonging the pain.
This way, I can have a good cry when AF shows up, dry the tears all the faster and gird myself against another showdown with the Clomid.
I've got at least a weekend full of distractions to keep some of the blackness at bay. There's a local festival going on with all sorts of arts and crafts and rides, plus a BBQ cookoff that DH gets to help judge. And tomorrow we're all going out to dinner with the hostess I met at the chocolate party a few weeks ago and her husband. I don't know if IF is going to come up with the husbands around, and I'm a little worried that it'll set me off on a sadness spree, but who better to condole and share a drink with, right?
The Snakebite of Death
2 days ago