I know the title's a little cliché and perhaps sounding a tad dramatic for a first attempt but I swear it was the first song played when I booted up this morning and it felt appropriate.
We were both awake when A's alarm went off at 5:30 this morning. It took a while for the warning chime to break through my mind's comfortable sleepy haze and for a minute I forgot what day it was. Then I remembered the test stick laid out in the bathroom ready and I snuggled further under the covers, trying to hold on to 'maybe' a little longer. To give her credit, A didn't say a word about it. She just gave me a morning hug and then got up to get ready for work. No pressure then.
After a while, I dragged myself out of bed and padded out to the bathroom.
Negative. That word sounds so cold; detached. And even as we looked at it, there was a part of my mind that was insisting that this wasn't right, that this wasn't the result we were supposed to get. I've had almost three hours to process it and it still hasn't sunk in. I don't think I'm going to be able to let go of this cycle until I see that final damning evidence.
My morning Facebook skim resulted in a cousins pregnancy announcement, a Disney pick that a friend has posted of Dumbo's mother and bundle with the caption 'happiness can arrive at any moment,' and a pick of pregnant sea-horses posted by non-profit org 'Have a gay day.'
Day 29 and counting.
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