Being prepared

It's amazing how you think you can be prepared for something, only to find that you are so far out in left field you can't even see home plate.

I tested today for pregnancy. I was so nervous. I didn't want to watch as the shade of pink ran across the test window collecting in the wondrous-two or devastating-one line. I watched anyway.

Of course I'm not pregnant. The lone pink line stared at me, laughing and saying, "Did you actually think I'd give you two? Ha ha, don't be so naive! Don't you know I am the destroyer of dreams? I am here to plummet you further into this infertility-induced depression, you worthless excuse for a woman!"

Really, it just laid there on the counter.

I wasn't surprised. I think this is where the perceived preparedness came in. I just kind of shrugged and said, "Well, we'll try again next month. You were expecting this." I had even repeated to myself as I was peeing on the damn thing, "Don't get disappointed."

So here I am. I am the epitome of disappointment. I am also as un-prepared for this as I can be. I never was good at following directions.

... the tears haven't stopped.