By the time I left home yesterday, AF was still nowhere to be seen. I went to the pharmacy, and very nervously purchased two HPT’s. I have not done one in a very long time, because, as previous experience would have it, every time I’ve pee’d on one of those things, AF comes bursting in to say “hi”.
I waited patiently until a had a decent sized wee and slinked off to do the first one. Nothing. Not even a control line. I put it down to a spoiled test, and went to bed.
The minute I opened my eyes this morning (around 5:30) I did the second one. I lay in bed staring at it, willing that pink line to start forming. Nothing. After about 15 minutes a faint pink shmere. The Hoff came in and explained that if you held it in a certain light, it was definitely a line. It was not. It was a very faint smudge. About two hours later, AF came crashing in, hat in hand, puffing and panting as she hurried over. She had just been running late, you see. Missed the last bus, or some lame excuse.
So here I am at the conclusion of another three grand wasted. I am sad. Not crushed. Just sad. I feel a little weary, actually. Like I need a week’s sleep. Anyway, same drill as number one. Please don’t phone me. I’ll phone you . When I’m ready. All other indirect forms of communication are welcome. Thanks to everyone for their unflinching support during this cycle. I will be looking into starting my next one next week if everything works out.
All for now.