I’m 8dp3dt. What? You don’t know what that means?! Good for you. 8 days past 3 day transfer. I’m 5 days away from my beta (blood test for pregnancy). But I really want to POAS. (Damn, there’s a lot of acronyms! Pee On A Stick). Sort of. Part of me really just wants to live in oblivion until Saturday, the other part wants to be in control. If this is a big fat fucking failure, I want to find that out in the comfort of my own bathroom.
I was pretty good in the first part of the 2WW (two week wait — you know, they acronyms are pointless if I have to keep defining them!) but now I’m getting anxious. Sometimes, I’m absolutely sure I’m pregnant. I can see it playing out. But then other times, I can see the failure playing out. I’ve been playing “trust my gut” — but either my gut doesn’t know or I simply won’t let it reveal what it thinks because the battle continues in my head.
I’ve also been trying not to swear around the embabies — it’s not working very well. But they can’t read, so I figure typing it is okay.
Actually, we’ve been calling them Blastobabies lately. (Blasto, blasto, blasto-babies!!! Try it again with a superhero tone….. yep, you got it.)
I just really hope they’ve snuggled in and that I’m not talking to dead air.