Tomorrow...Tomorrow...

You're only a day away!

Why does it seem like 14 days can last forever? Tomorrow is my beta. I don't know what to think. I've been feeling really wierd for the last...well since Thanksgiving. Lots of strange symptoms I don't usually have, ones I do usually have lasting longer, some completly absent. I've been having all these wierd twinges and sudden bouts of nausea that go away as quickly as they come. I hate to get myself all worked up just to be let down. I have a dollar store test sitting on my kitchen table for the morning, so I can prepare myself for the nurse's phone call. I'm scared to take it.

I can't look and that starm white blankness again. I have such big plans for having a wonderful Christmas and don't want them to be dashed. We're going to see family this weekend and having family at our house next weekend, and they all know (mainly because my parents can't keep their big mouths shut) that my beta is tomorrow. I don't want to face all the questions. I don't want to deal with having to tell people over and over again I'm not pregnant...again.

Another blogger friend posted earlier this week (or maybe it was last week I can't seem to find the post now) that all she wanted for christmas was a dead baby. She, like me, has never even known the joy of getting pregnant. She expressed that maybe if she had at least been pregnant and miscarried, people would understand the pain she was feeling. Unstead, people offer useless advice and tell you your time will come and don't get that EVERY month requires some level of mourning. If she had the dead baby in her history maybe then people would understand.

While I can't say I would ever wish for a miscarriage, I understand where she is coming from. At least then you have something tangible to mourn. At least then you have others to morun the loss with you. At least then its not as taboo. At least then you're not a complete failure as a mother. You've been a mother, if only for a short time. You may not have children yet in this life, but there is hope for you.

All of these negative thoughts may be in vain. I may be pregnant right now. I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to know. Part of me wants to stay in limbo where there's still a little shred of hope, a small light at the end of the tunnel. I guess tomorrow will tell.