life, the universe and why i can't fit into my pants
From the She Ain't Pregnant, She's Heavy Dept.:
I took a second pregnancy test yesterday, which was also negative. I was still pretty confused - was I not bloated? Was I not suspiciously menstruation-free? Was I not vaguely nauseous? Was I not dreamy and preoccupied with the idea of a sweet little nubbin, a sequel to Blake that I could snoodle and, more importantly, predict? I was confused and the menstruation seemed the most confusing thing of all, as I've only missed one period in the 14 years before I got pregnant.
All was made clear this morning, when my menses bust forth like a crimson cataract of "I told ya so." Just for the record, my cycle has now clocked in at 42 days – and thus my fertility is the big question.
Eh. I'm probably better off this way. Now I don't have to rush around buying a house or picking a midwife – I can be sensible and plan the pregnancy for a good time of year, as well (giving birth in the second week of September is hot, crispy death when your spouse is also a teacher). Yeah. This is probably for the best.
I've decided to take the day off tomorrow, as the stomach flu sweeping the house seems to have settled on me. I plan to spend the night puking into a garbage can, and tomorrow watching DVD's and feeling sorry for myself. Fun!
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*