Day 11: no blood yet.
It doesn’t usually come until 12. If it doesn’t come tomorrow, I’ll test Friday.
Here’s the thing. I think I might be getting used to this. Like, if you rode that same roller coaster ten times, you just know which parts are going to hurt your neck and which parts are going to hurt your back and which parts are actually fun. This month all the parts hurt my ta-tas. I’m just pulling back into the place where the roller coaster stops and wondering if I’m going around for another spin. If I bleed tomorrow, perhaps my damn b00bs will stop hurting. I’ll be sad to not be pregnant. But I’ll be happy to have the girls restored to their former selves. The poor dears.
I’ve resigned myself to another round of injectionables, because I feel like this one didn’t really count, with the missed ovulation and whatnot. Another 1100-odd bucks… another TWW.
Here’s another thing: I’m being stalked. Monarch butterflies are following me. (Probably everyone else, too. What, did our cell phones confuse their migratory paths or something? Or is this normal? I don’t remember it.)
Today I was walking away from work and one was walking with me. It was right next to me at about the height of an adult’s head. I decided it was the baby’s spirit. Don’t tease me. I talk to her all the time. Here she was walking with me. So I told her again about how we are ready for her. Everything is ready. I’ve got a nice soft place for her to grow inside me right now. I welcomed her again. Come on, baby. Come on.