Negative

12dpo. BFN.

I treated the pee stick like a pot that refused to boil should I stare. I would walk away, pace the hall anxiously and come back to analyze the results. After ten minutes of obsessive-compulsive behavior, I accepted the harsh reality that a line just wasn't going to magically appear where I hoped it would.

Disappointment initially hit me like a ton of bricks. My EDD would have been 1/25. Exactly the same as my dear "Snowflake" we lost three years ago. I had convinced myself we were destined for success this cycle. That it was meant to be so I could turn that day into a happy memory.

But I realized that, in a way, I am glad that "Snowflake" has that date all to herself. I wasn't able to give her life but at least I can give her that day. A proper commemoration of the short 11+ weeks we shared.

I didn't have time to shed a tear before Nate started beckoning me from his crib. I picked up his limp body and and rocked him gently in the glider as he fought to wake up. I swept his white blonde bangs from his tear-stained eyes and kissed his forehead. The light formed a comforting shadow in our little corner of the world. And just like that, I was at peace.

I'm still hopeful that we'll conceive a sibling someday. But I must remain thankful for the blessings that soften the blow.

Put On A Happy Face

I love when I wake up in the morning to a smiling face, don't you?



This was the beautiful, surprising sight I saw on Monday - and again on Tuesday. It had been so long since I'd seen a positive OPK (on day 14 no less!) that I thought I was dreaming. I had to rub the crust from the corners of my eyes and turn on the bathroom light to be sure that there were indeed eyes and a mouth in that digital circle.

As of today, I've gotten my crosshairs and am officially 3dpo. Our timing was impeccable. We're now just sitting pretty until test day: May 15.

I'm amazed that the 50mg worked this time. Last time, pre-Nate, the 50mg did nothing but give me a monster cyst. Even 100mg had trouble releasing a golden egg. I'm shocked - and stoked - that my ovaries got the memo this time around, and on the lowest dosage. Funnily enough, my side effects have been much more potent this cycle. My past Clomid cycles incurred a week of hot flashes that were annoying but manageable. I remember sitting in business meetings, sweating like a prostitute in church. Well, this time, I had one minor hot flash that lasted all of sixty seconds but cramps, nausea and dizziness galore. You'd think the lower dose would mean less side effects. Not so in my case.

Today, as I was folding t-shirts and putting them away in his drawers, I told Nate that he could be a big brother in as soon as 8 months. I know he doesn't quite understand the magnitude of that statement. It's even hard for me to believe it is an actual possibility.

Right now it just seems like an illusion.