How the Tables Have Turned

How many of us gals can remember being young and in love, maybe 17 or 18 tender years of age, and experiencing that sickening feeling when your period is late? The desperation, the silent prayers offered up (even though you are in no way religious), the promises to be more careful and then, at last, the supreme relief and sudden lightening of a burden when, finally, you see the telltale signs of a baby-less existence. I can remember my father’s threats about pre-marital sex and its dangers, which totally ignored STDs but instead focused solely on how pregnancy could ruin my life, get me kicked out of the house, disowned from the family.
And now, here I am today, breathless and fidgety with anticipation that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance, 20% of 20%, (0.04, I think, if my math is right), because I was suppose to get my period yesterday and did not. Nor did I get it last night. Hoping beyond hoping, I told myself I’d wait until 3:00 this afternoon, no, 2:00, to try the HPT.
Well, I just blew that goal out of the window. Proving myself to really be that impatient, I just went and did it. And it was negative. There’s a very clear, solid negative line mocking me right now.
How many times will I go through this before going totally insane? Again, how do women do this month in and out, year after year? I would have bet money right up until the moment I saw that line that it had taken, especially after the past few days where I’ve been sleeping 12-14 hours on average and still feel exhausted, been absent-minded, sensitive to ‘normal’ smells, all those things that I have to now chalk up to – psychosomatic symptoms? I’ve read of that happening, where you want it so bad that you convince your body to give off the common signs. So next step I guess is waiting a few more days to see if I get my period and then, if not, redo the test in a week to see if hormone levels have risen any. And NOT get my hopes up that it was a false negative. Oops, too late. 0.04, that's still a chance!