Tardiness...

So... in my last post, I explained my masochistic need to take a pregnancy test a day early. Well... I'm not sure I explained it well, but I did say that it was Negative.

I had told my sister that I was done taking pregnancy tests until I was actually late. That it wasn't worth an additional day or 2 of depression. And I was serious.
But then I had gotten sick over the weekend. At least one person from every singular family had caught something while at my Mother-in-law's Christmas over the weekend. Joint pain, fever, wet cough and just plain sick - Weston had it too. Friday, I started to come down with something - I got more and more achy as the day went on, and my chest started to tighten - like I was just overcoming bronchitis, though I couldn't cough. And I was "just-this-side-of-nauseous" (I'm coining that term, by the way) and slightly dizzy. This went on from Friday-Sunday. The nausea and dizziness lasted until Monday night. So... everyone was like, "You're Pregnant!" A few others thought I had pneumonia. (thanks, WebMD!)
So, Tuesday morning I woke up and thought... hmm, maybe every one's right... Maybe our collective dream has come true... Maybe I am pregnant and I can run in and wake up Scott and we can all be happy together... And then we can have the doctor confirm it before we go north for the weekend. Yes, my brain ran on like that until I had to potty so badly that I almost skipped the test. But I took the test. And as I glanced at it every so often, only 1 line appeared. After the 5 minute timer went off, I studied the test. Yes, only 1 line was visible... but was a second line showing at all? Because if there is a hint of a 2nd line, I can test in a few days and it should be positive. Right? 
Well, there wasn't any sign of a second line. Nothing at all. A Big Fat NEGATIVE without so much as a line or a word or a hint of color. Empty space on a small stick.
I told Scott that I'd taken a test and it was Negative. He just went about his morning like it wasn't a big deal. I went about my day heart broken as you can see from my previous post.

Fast forward to Wednesday. D-Day, the arrival day of Aunt Flo (AF). I make all necessary preparations and wait. Usually, I wake up to AF. My AF is always on time... usually by 3:42pm actually. So, when 5pm rolls around, and I'm blissfully cramp-free with AF no where in sight, I start to get a little speck of Hope. A friend had said to wait, nothing was certain until AF made an appearance. By 7pm, Scott had asked about AF. I told him that she was a "no-show." Scott said, "So, you're late." And his face completely lit up. I said I wasn't officially late until Thursday. Scott knew I usually receive a visit in the morning, and he asked when the last time I was late was? I told him, "5 years ago last December." He kept saying, "Maybe the test was wrong. Maybe you took it too early. Maybe it was just wrong." He was so excited that I let his happiness suck me in. I started counting, thinking how amazing that our child would be a Christmas miracle, and be due in the early Fall, and maybe I'd be on maternity leave over the holidays. I went to bed with such a feeling of hope that I'm surprised I wasn't glowing.

I ended up with a devastating let down this morning. AF had arrived. I haven’t been late in 5 years, until today. Scott was pretty vocal in his dismay this morning. He showed more emotion and energy in the last 2 days (regarding a baby) than he has in the last year. That sort of makes it all worse. His disappointment weighing on my shoulders. It's almost like an anxiety attack when I think about it. So I am giving this to the blogosphere in the hopes that giving this away will release me a little. We'll see how that works out.