I spent the entire day yesterday thinking it was Thursday, and woke up this morning thinking it was Friday. So, I tested. The biggest fattest negative stared up at me three minutes later.
I said that I wasn't holding my breath for this cycle, and honestly I didn't think I was. Imagine my surprise when it really seemed like I had been holding my breath. I guess part of me was really holding onto the tiny chance that there still was. I mean, any of us would. It just really really hurts...
I've had my moments off and on today where I just cried. What I don't think a lot of people understand is that at the end of every cycle, whether it's a BFN or the dreaded arrival of AF, you go through a little mourning period. Especially if you had strong hopes for that particular cycle! You begin to grow these beautiful ideas about how this is finally it! You calculate the potential due date, and the baby shower you will finally get, and the midwifery center you have been recommending to the newly pregnant women you keep meeting. Most of all, you have to mourn the child you thought you would hold. You honestly go through a feeling of loss. It doesn't help that you also get bombarded by pregnancy announcements, belly pics, and parents complaining about their kids. It just really sucks.
So, now I'm just waiting for AF to rear her ugly head. If she hasn't shown up by Monday I'm going to call the clinic and see what to do now.
I think I'm going to go take a nap.