I succombed to some peer pressure and took a few hpts. One last night, two today. All negative. I don’t mean maybe there’s something there but maybe not negatives. Nope, textbook, unequivocal, glaringly line-free negatives.
But. And those of us who are fertility-challenged can always find a but (upper, outer quadrant, usually (yes, that IS a bad joke, I apologize)).
The one I took last night was on cd10 (very early to test), taken at 8pm (definitely not first morning urine).
The one I took this morning was on cd11 (still pretty early), and I did wake up and drink quite a bit of water during the night (could have been somewhat dilute).
The one I took mid-morning, still on cd11.
See? Bat-shit crazy. Convinced tomorrow’s blood test will be negative and hoping it won’t be. And we won’t even BEGIN to discuss the very tiny pair of Winnie the Pooh socks I bought in a fit of insanity last night at Target (on clearance for $1.50!!! C’mon, it was a SIGN!!!) that I’ve been holding on to all day like a talisman.
Blood test is at 9:15 in the morning (that’s central time) followed by the consult with Dr. N. I have no idea how long that will be. It usually takes them two hours to get back to me with results, but it can be as late as 6pm. Um, I love all of you, but chances are, this won’t be my first stop if the news is good, so don’t get your panties in a bunch if you don’t hear from me. No news is just that…no news.
Cross your fingers for me. Rub fat little baby bellies. Hold tiny little Winnie the Pooh socks up like Richardson worshipping his deer antlers (What? You don’t watch Deadwood? Are you insane?). Dance naked in the moonlight (ok, that might not work, full moon was a while ago…there might not be any moonlight). I don’t care what you do, just send me some positive beta vibes, ok?
Oh, and before I forget…went to the chiro who did horribly noisy things to my spine and I’m much better now. Ice packs are my friend, but I can turn my head again. Yay!