Or not. Still negative and I'm unofficially calling it. BFN. I'm okay today, as I've pretty much known this for 2 days now. Wednesday was hard. C has woken up early (and screaming) for 2 mornings in a row, so I've checked on him and then tested while waiting for him to settle back down. Yesterday I crawled back in bed and just started crying. R hugged me and said we'll get through this. Later that day as he was hugging C he said that if he is our only child, we are still pretty damn lucky and he is right. I stood in the same spot in our yard that I stood and broke down the Mother's Day after my chemical pregnancy, but instead of crying, I was laughing at a little boy taking giant steps in an attempt to squash as many leaves as possible. I am lucky, and happy, but this is still really hard.
I think the hardest part in all of this is knowing that a perfectly healthy looking embryo was placed inside me, and sometime, probably shortly thereafter, it died. My body killed it. So I do okay until I look at this picture, and then I feel horrible.
I don't really know what to do with this picture. I don't want to throw it out like it means nothing, but at the same time it serves no purpose anymore than a sad memory. I guess I'll just tuck it away somewhere and pray I won't be adding any more to the pile.
I'm so sorry.
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