cruel joke

This past month was the first month after the laparoscopy that David and I could try for a baby again.  You know, try on our own, because that has worked so well for us in the past.  No matter, after the surgery maybe things would work better.  Plus I have lost more than 10 pounds, maybe that would help things, too.  I got the smiley face on the ovulation predictor kit so we were good to go.

The day I was supposed to get my period came and went.  I started to get a little curious.  No warning cramps yet, no needing to eat everything in sight, especially if it was chocolate.  No symptoms of an impending cycle day 1.  But I refused to let my hopes get up. 

2 days late...then 3 and 4.  I had taken pregnancy tests just to be sure.  The first one I could have sworn I saw a very, very faint second line but it disappeared. 

My mind was racing.  Could I be pregnant?  I'm never this late.  Wouldn't it be fantastic if we did this on our own, finally?  What a story that would make!  We could announce our pregnancy the "normal" way.  Oh, this could be it, I can feel it.

I'm not sure why, after 4 years of failure, I let my hopes get up that high.  To be honest, I can't remember when I've been that hopeful.  I tried talking myself down but it didn't work. There were even a few pregnancy symptoms. 

Last night I put my hands on my belly and whispered "grow baby grow".

Again, I'm an idiot.

Last night, David and I agreed that I should e-mail my nurse in the morning to ask her if I should come in for bloodwork just to see if I was in fact pregnant.  5 days late is a big deal.  Plans changed at 3am when I woke with the worst cramps imaginable, then again at 5am.  I hadn't gotten my period yet but I knew it was inevitable.

All my hopes came crashing down from the moon today.

What if this never works?