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I think I’m pregnant.

But I’m probably not.

And that’s exactly what I tell myself over, and over, and over again.

Your boobs really aren’t THAT sore. And I’m pretty sure they were more sore yesterday, so that means you’re not pregnant.

You’re always this thirsty. (Not.)

That’s not pregnancy nose. That’s completely normal to gag at the smell of a chicken coop, when every once else seems to be just fine. And it’s normal to think your clean drinking glasses smell weird, too. And for all the sudden not to be able to stand the smell of your kids’ breath. (Right??)

You can’t be pregnant. You have insomnia. If you were pregnant, you’d be dead asleep by 8.

You can’t be pregnant. You weren’t trying hard enough. You weren’t doing enough RIGHT things. You weren’t taking a prenatal. (Goodness, should I start??)

 You can’t be pregnant. Because you ALWAYS think you’re pregnant. And only 4 times have you been right. And only 1 time have you brought home a baby.

Which brings me to number 2 . . .

Even if you were pregnant, what gives? More than likely — I’ll bet somewhere around 99% — you’ll only be pregnant for a few short weeks. If that. You’ll battle hope v. realism every day. Until the bleeding starts. Or the pain starts. Or your breasts feel less tender. Or the ultrasound screen comes up empty (again.) Or your hcg levels start to drop. Or your tube ruptures. Or. Or. Or. Or. Or.

None of the scenarios obsessively playing about in my head right now are about a live baby.

It’s more like, what the heck am I supposed to do with another loss? How can I protect my heart? What if I just pretend I don’t care? Will it hurt less then? What if I expect it? What if I tell no one?What if I tell everyone? How can my family deal with more bad news? What if the test is negative, and all this obsession is really for nothing?

And why the heck did we have unprotected sex to begin with?

And why the heck am I secretly willing that pregnancy test in a week to come out positive — even when I know the outcome likely won’t be?

And when the heck did all this get to be so dang complicated??

Ps. I wasn’t pregnant.