The earliest a pregnancy test could possibly mean anything is this Friday. A more reasonable time to break it out would be next Wednesday or afterward. That's why I've already given myself two in the last two days. Good. Good going. So, of course they're negative. They're even negative if you stare at them really hard while they're developing, right up at 'em super close with a death stare.
I'm still completely convinced that I'm pregnant.
And I could be right. I don't normally get headaches, but I'm getting these frequent mild little headaches. A SYMPTOM. I got a little bit of cramping right at the time when my new child oughta be burrowing that egg into the walls, there. THAT'S SOMETHING. I have to pee all the time. A SYMPTOM. I ate lunch with a friend of mine today and felt queasy a couple of times. SEE WHAT I MEAN?
I'm going to be really irritated if I'm not pregnant, even if that just means I can pencil in more sex with my husband. So that's not very gracious of me. That part will be good. It's the waiting, and the madness.
Look, whether or not I turn out to be pregnant, I know that my kvetching must be extremely irritating for all those who had either legitimately long waits for this news or are still waiting after even longer periods of time or have complicating issues. Please forgive me if that's you.
With every spasm of headache, I'm like OH YEAH. AWESOME. WITH CHILD. POKE ME, head. Twinge it. Bring it. Every little moment of queasiness is like a tiny bouquet of roses. If I'm not pregnant I'm going to feel like an asshole. What else will be new?
P.S. Finn has his first real little friend! Ladies and gentleman, I give you young Miles Gehrman! Well, I don't. I don't have a current picture. But I will. You'll be hearing more about him shortly. Right after I buy him a pony and a six-foot milkshake. Awesomeness is afoot.