I've grown to hate the two week wait. Things that could be PMS either depress or encourage me during this time. My mind sort of runs like, "Oh I just compulsively drank the jar of pickle juice, maybe I'm pregnant! Or maybe it is just PMS because this happens once a month and I'm probably just going to get my period anyway because my ovaries are stupid and hate me."
The TWW makes me almost too attune to my body, my husband probably things I'm crazy for googling whether a dry va-jayjay is a sign of pregnancy. I know, in my head somewhere, that even if I was pregnant I probably wouldn't be having any symptoms, so I usually just get sad and think I'm either crazy and pregnant, or have PMS.
Sadly, I'm sure it'll just wind up being PMS. Shouldn't you feel pregnant? You always hear these magical stories of "I just knew, I started glowing right there in bed the second it happened and my spiritual animal appeared on the ceiling and confirmed in 9 months we'd have a little girl and her name would be Petunia." Maybe not that magical, but women seem to know when they're pregnant. I knew I was pregnant the month I had the chemical pregnancy. My boobs felt like they'd gone rounds with a mammogram machine.
What I'm saying is I don't "know" anything this month, and it is making me angry. I don't feel particularly pregnant, I don't feel particularly un-pregnant. I'm hopeful, but not really. I like to think the 50 bucks we spent on a new set of OPK's and the ultra-lube Pre-Seed will make a difference, but my boobs feel like boobs, and my uterus isn't fluttering or glowing or anything so I'm not bouncing around buying up all the baby things.
The only thing I can really say is, after I buy my college books, I'm taking my leftover money and buying the Skip-Hop Duo diaper bag. I don't care if I don't use it for a while. I want that specific diaper bag, I've read lots of reviews and it always seems to come out on top. I like the fact it clips onto your stroller, the patterns it comes in, all the pockets, the cellphone pouch. I just like it. So I might treat myself to a diaper bag I don't need.
Maybe I'll throw some squeaky mice in it and take my cat out for a stroll.