It is now one day past ovulation. I think.
Still not entirely sure how I feel about that. Glad I ovulated. Scared of getting pregnant. Scared of not getting pregnant. Scared that it was all a nasty trick and my body will have not ovulated after all. Worried that this is it, the end. Worried that we will get 'hopeful' of the treatments working, and keep doing them. Worried they won't. Worried they will give us miscarriage numero 4. Really worried about hope creeping in.
Hope- you demon bitch- please please stay away from me.
Of course, I already know what the estimated due date would be if I got pregnant with a viable pregnancy. I know, because it would be a week off from the first miscarriage. It would be on one of my older brother's birthdays. It would be between the winter holidays and New Years.
With the first pregnancy that all made me excited. It felt good, and new, and I was so hopeful.
My first miscarriage was almost two years ago now. One more month, and it will have been two years. The cherry tree we planted is blossoming again, and it's flowers are beautiful and bittersweet.
I can't even imagine how different my life would have been if that pregnancy had made it. I literally can't imagine it.
I wish I could.