The saddest pee in the world…

Seeing a negative pregnancy test when you’re trying to conceive can be one of the most soul crushing moments of one’s life. There’s something infinitely lonely about peeing on a stick, heartbeat racing, and then waiting the dreaded three minutes for the lines to show. And then all you see is just one determined pink line, asserting its presence by the second as if to say—this is my domain, no one else can be here but me. Your eyes keep staring at the white space next to the line, almost willing another one to appear there but no dice. One line and one line alone. The heart flops down to basement level, waiting tears rush to spill out and the world seems a bleak, unforgiving place.
This was our first time trying after my myomectomy. I know that there is no magic formula involved here, but I was just hoping to conceive immediately now that the fibroid monster is out of my system. Something about making the move to this nice, almost-suburban place just made me feel that I might get lucky here. Real soon. And then there were the signs. Every darn show I saw on TV had something about pregnancy. For the first time in my life I am living in a street level apartment which makes me feel it’s the perfect place to fall preggers. And of course, I am surrounded by kids. This is a family oriented neighborhood and babies abound in this little complex which is heartwarming and heartbreaking both at the same time.
Oh well. April, my treacherous friend, it’s a firm goodbye to you I guess. May, it remains to be seen what your true colors will be like.