i'm doing a lot better this month.
(of course, i'm writing this post two days before i'm going to post it - i've been making judicious use of the 'schedule post' option this weekend so as not to overwhelm you all with posts - so there's a lot of time for things to go wrong between now and then.)
today (saturday) has actually gone quite wrong - it's 11pm and all i've eaten is a fried egg sandwich and a big bag of tortilla chips, so not quite a healthy substantial diet - but the last couple of weeks I've done really well. exercised again. got my five a day every day for about five days in a row (... obviously not today!) for the first time in forever. majorly cut down on caffeine and alcohol. been calmer. happier. more well balanced. not as obsessed with getting pregnant.
so, of course, i'm desperately fighting down the impulse to assume that because i'm doing all the right things, this will be The Month, and that in two weekends from now, i'll be doing a pregnancy test that turns out positive. because we all know it's never that simple, don't we?
and just to make it worse, i'm thinking of going to York next weekend.
the last time i went to York, i was pregnant.
i actually went two consecutive weekends. two different nights out. the first time, i didn't know i was pregnant. the wednesday in between, i discovered i was pregnant.
and i don't want to take that to be a sign.
my uterus and its contents (or its huge echoing emptiness) don't know or care where i am.
just because i do something i did back then doesn't mean i'll be pregnant this month.
and yet still i hope.