I should be hauling myself off to the ladies room to pee on an OPK right about now.  It's 7:55.  I'm supposed to test at 8.

The thing is… I can't bring myself to get up. 

I've been over-analyzing every physiological sign for weeks, and it's even worse today.  I am afraid to walk in there with too much hope.  There is nothing worse than being so immensely let down about something so very personal in the middle of the ladies room at the office. 

It's different at home.  At home, I can look at the big fat nagative and bury my head in Catch's shoulder.  She will wrap her arms around me, offer words of encouragement, and I will feel better in no time at all.

But here–it's different.  It's cold.  Here doesn't care about my disappointment.  Here can't offer a hug.  Here is just one more negative test tossed in the waste basket.

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