Strange how even with all experience to the contrary, I can still allow myself to hope that I might be pregnant for as long as the incontrovertible evidence has not yet arrived. As my cycles are fairly irregular it is difficult to predict when 'Auntie Flow is about to roll into town', but my last one was only 26 days, and this one is now on 35 - causing me to hope - against all hope - that this is a missed period, not just a late one. After 27 consecutive months of disappointment, you'd think I would know better; yet perhaps it is just human nature to never let ourselves stop hoping. Novels and films nearly all end with a restoration of normality, couples get together, serial killers are caught, and there is nearly always a sense that life will turn out just fine in the end. Anyway, the stupid thing is that I won't do a pregnancy test because somehow that will be more disappointing than just waiting for the proof to arrive. So, in the meantime I over-analyse ever creak and twinge of my body - even thinking of aches and pains that aren't there this cycle, wondering if they might hold any clue to whether this time there is a little fertilised egg burying itself into my womb.
A good quote I heard recently:
"Two words - uh duuuuh!" (Bratz the movie, oh yes I really did watch it!)
Anyway - off to change my coldsore plaster! (Is a coldsore a sign of pregnancy?!)
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