Here I am, laying on the couch typing away while wanting desperately to run to the bathroom and rip open one of those pretty pink pregnancy tests. But, I'm not.
I'm really trying to resist. (and my hubby FORBADE me!!! Like that works!)
While I was really optimistic before I flew back to Alaska, since being home the doubts have crept in to my happy space. With one of the embryos hatching upon transfer, it seemed like such a good sign.
But now, I'm not in a bad place, I'm just in a more realistic place. A place where I look at the statistics and realize that like with E, I might fall on the bad side of these. It took us three tries for him, maybe it will take three tries for the next one. Or maybe it won't happen at all.
I remind myself of these things, not to be morose, but to steel myself against the heartbreak that could occur on Thursday.
Still sounds morose when I write it though.