Hey, I'm functional!

Today was an uber-productive day. Wow. Things are shaping up with our new house (we haven't moved in yet, but I'm organizing contractors) and I finally cleaned out the fridge. Anybody need some penicillin? I've got tons of it growing on my leftovers...

I feel like a heifer. Is it possible for the progesterone to cause bloating after only 24 hours? Mr. December hugged me today and it felt like there was a balloon between our stomachs. Ugh. Of course, I could just put down the damn fork and see if it's still "the progesterone".

Note to self: put down the fork!

I've got hope simmering under the surface here. On the surface, I'm still in limbo - trying to work out whether it will be better for me in the long run to be positive or negative. Trying to figure out whether hope will hurt me at some point. I suppose in the end it will go the way it always does - I'll be hopeful right up until the bitter end, when at 12dpo I test negative. Then I'll be all pissed off until I get the negative beta result, and then I'll cry for a couple of days.

Working on the theory that we write our own life scripts, I'm going to re-write the above...

I suppose in the end it will go the way it always does - I'll be hopeful right up until the bitter end, when at 12 dpo I get a BFP on my dollar store test. Then I'll waffle between excitement and apprehension until I get the positive (and doubling) beta results, and then I'll squeal and jump up and down for a few days before beginning the difficult job of worrying for nine months.

I do like the second ending better. Let's stick with that one.