So I'm not pregnant. Except that I'm also not-NOT pregnant.
I'm exactly where I've been for the past two weeks which is the frustrating space of not knowing if I'm between Ovulation and Conception or Ovulation and Shedding Uterus, depending on how the whole Operation: Baby strike went the first go-round.
What I'm trying to say that is I still have no fucking clue what is going on.
On Friday, I was completely convinced that I am not pregnant and I was happily resigned to knowing we'd have to try again this month. When we have out of state visitor's sleeping 10 feet away. When I'm tired from hosting out of state visitors.
On Saturday, when my period declined it's standard invitation (VERY UNUSUAL FOR ME), my happy resignation turned into frantic peeing on sticks, but all the pee tests are negative (even the early detection tests taken two days after my period was due), so basically my body is messing with me for shoots and googles, and it serves me right for obsessing, right?
This is exactly like not being able to buy Season 6 of How I Met Your Mother - even though I'm dying to watch it - because Season 6 is, like, not over yet, and stuff.
The other minor symptoms I'm experiencing could be early pregnancy symptoms OR they could be in my head and NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING AT ALL.
I've been talking to my uterus all weekend, saying stuff like, "Either be pregnant or be empty. It's your call, but fucking pick one already," and "BLEED, MOTHERFUCKER!"
The lack of finality is making me all question-y , and the only other explanation I can come up with for my late period is stress, which seems like a given when you've met me before, but I'm not actually very stressed out right now. I'm ready to know if I'm pregnant, I'm ready to BE pregnant, but I'm also enjoying my time at home with the dogs and the hubby and watching our very own fat robin who is nesting next door and plotting the deaths of the legion of dandelions in our yard and replacing worn out breaker switches and hosting dinner parties. I'm busy, but it's all very FUN, lazy business.
So is my insomnia + shingles outbreak + late period all a sign of my secret stress?
Or am I knocked up with the world's strangest spawn?
Is my giant, flappy labia involved in this mess? Do my boobs hurt because I keep squeezing them to see if they hurt? Or do they just hurt when I squeeze them because they hurt?
It's all very confusing.
Oh, and also - Lily wants to live in the trunk of my car. Or underneath the deck. I haven't decided which she'd prefer, but she's almost gotten locked in/stuck in both places this week, so it's kind of a toss up.