That is, I am once again not pregnant.
On Saturday, we'll start using the ClearBlue Fertility monitor we dropped $150 on a few weeks ago (not to mention the cost of the test sticks; I won't even regale you with that wallet nightmare). You're supposed to start testing on day 5 of your cycle, and as you go through the days, the monitor asks you to test either for 10 or 20 days, depending on what I am not exactly sure. (Perhaps how much it wants to rip you off by forcing you to purchase more test sticks?)
I feel like a sack of cinder blocks every time I see a woman (or man!) with a baby or small child, and since that's pretty nearly every time I step out my front door, I feel pretty consistently like bulky, porous building materials. Even before we started trying, I was pretty generally convinced that I would be unable to get pregnant, despite having absolutely zero reason for thinking this. Or, no reason other than my supposed pessimism, as Brad calls it. Every time I get my period it's further reinforcement of that fear. I know the average time it takes to get pregnant is (supposedly) a year, but until I do get pregnant, I'm going to be worried beyond belief that I will never. And if I read one more person saying (and I'm doing this in an annoying preschool teacher voice), "Don't think about it so much! It will happen when you're not trying!" I might throw up my Hi-C and peanut butter and jelly sandwich right onto someone's velcro shoes.
Brad says it will happen soon. Butcher says he's got his fingers crossed. Amanda - with whom I have my second date tomorrow, this time at my house - says she understands how hard it is to not get frustrated but that once it happens I will be so happy and not remember what life is like without a baby. My mom says - and isn't this so my practical mother? - that she wonders if we're timing things right each month.
I have a response to only one of these thoughts, and this is, "We just dropped $180 to make sure we get the timing right."