Disappointment. Again.

I really, really thought this was it. I had all the symptoms and I felt "different." But I was deathly scared of doing the test. I didn't want to take it because there was a chance it would be negative and it would crush me. Friday night I had dreams about pregnancy tests all night. I woke up at 5 am and had to run to the bathroom to do the test. I danced around as I waited for "pregnant" to show up on the test. Hubby ran in when he saw the light on and covered my eyes.

He told me it was negative and I burst into tears right on the toilet. I hate even writing this because it's making me so sad again. I cried all morning as I thought about how much I HATE this process and how unfair it is. Why does this have to happen to good people like us? Why does my body hate me? Why can't I give my husband the one thing he wanted by the time he was 30? That's probably the worst feeling this week because I know how important this was to him. He's my "pillar" as he calls it and Kitty is the "pebble" who held me as I cried all morning long.

Thank God for my infertility support group just a couple hours later. They were the only ones that really understood and it felt so good to sit in a room with girls who can really sympathize. The sadness is nowhere near gone, but going there helped a lot. All weekend, I was depressed and I'm still thinking about it 3 days later. WHY ME?