The little, dark luminous cross glowing under my bathroom light bulb struck a chord in me that resonated with a certain, "Hey it's all over now. You can get pregnant! Finally! Anytime you want you can do it!" and so I did the jump up and down thing. Yes I actually did do this along with a little happy dance. As the next few weeks creeped by I couldn't keep the news bottled up inside. I actually announced the result to one or two or maybe more like three people I knew would be delighted to hear. I revelled in their, "see I knew you guys could do it!" comments like a dog in a really good and smelly patch of grass, nose first. One friend actually opened a bottle of champagne in our honor at a dinner last week with a wink and a sly smile. Oh god, there was even the champagne! How could I have not seen it coming?
Then the spotting started. Suddenly I was jolted back to the present. I was not in the fertility junction. I was the the fertility junkyard. That was the person I was. I was here. I was fooling myself if I thought I belonged anywhere else. I'd completely let down my guard and I was hanging out with the wrong crowd. The fall was going to be hard. I braced myself with both arms holding either wall for the slam of defeat. The ultrasound was grim. The beta was low and the next beta lower.
So here I am with a very positive pregnancy test in my pharmacy cabinet to remind me of what a giddy optimist I was a few short weeks ago. How quaint that they make them so that they don't fade and you can keep them now for all eternity. I really think they should disinegrate along with the pregnancy.
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