We are not pregnant.
I had a positive pregnancy test yesterday. What. I don't know. I got up to pee in the middle of the night. I figured the trigger shot was gone (14 days) and it had been 12 days since the IUI. Why not just take a test and get the monkey off my back?
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, there is a line. I carry it around all day with me. It was very, very faint. In fact, if you looked at it from the side it showed up better. It was there. I know only you people will trust me when I say I know what a negative looks like and this was not one of them.
I took the test again this morning. It was negative. No hope of the line. What. I turn around and Aunt Flo, that miserable bitch, is staining my toilet. She has done that to me twice now.
It is 4 am. Rocco and I look at each other, there isn't much to say. We eventually go back to sleep, but when I roll over God knows how much later, he is still awake with me. We are alone in our bed with each other.
I go to work today. They pay me if I show up and I have a $25k - $45k cycle to pay in the coming months. I don't know how, but I don't cry. I am late for work, so I hit the Starbuck's drive through to get a coffee. Decaf, as I am stupidly ever hopeful. This is my rebellion. I haven't had decaf in a long time.
Rocco takes me to lunch. I want to talk about how to choose a donor but instead I obsess over the money we don't have to pay for the next cycle. I feel worse after lunch. Poor Rocco, I don't tell him this.
I get back to work. Pandora, a spreadsheet, and I forget about things for a while. I change into a new tampon. Wow, that is a lot. I get a real coffee even though it is 2pm.
I jump when someone says PSSST so loudly I hear it through Pandora. I turn around and you won't believe who the fuck is in my face....
The pregnant fertile bitch from work.
She is actually holding her belly and says to me that she hasn't seen me around (you clueless fuck, I sit in the cube catty corner to yours - did you ever stop to wonder why). She then says (with this voice), "Look at my bump. I am getting so fat."
Welcome to Shit Show II.
Yeah, I cried. I tried to listen to her. I heard something about food makes her sick and goes right to her belly. She asked what was wrong. Was work getting to me? A lot of deadlines? Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? You sure you're ok?
Get me the fuck out of here.
I am home with my dogs.