The one without a title
Ok...we're moving. Really moving. I spent all day Friday supervising as my husband and his friends took almost everything we own out of the loft we have lived in for the last five years and loaded it onto a truck.
I drove and picked up the wife of one of the friends and the two of us began the five hour drive. We got here about two hours before Mr. W and her husband; we were, of course, asleep on the floor when they arrived.
I spent this morning supervising as they carried my furniture into the new apartment. I worried about the wood and the fact that it was raining ON MY FURNITURE! And then I realized that I felt so nauseated I could hardly stand up. We drove to buy patio furniture and I almost had to pull the car over to vomit. Thankfully, I was able to swallow hard and let that feeling wash over me. But it kept coming back, again and again. And then I realized how terribly sore my boobs are. So I bought some First Response tests. But I haven't peed on any of them. I keep telling myself it's too soon. My period shouldn't be here until Tuesday and I've never had good luck before. But everyone here is convinced that the Clomid worked and I am pregnant. So much so that after lunch all three of them commented that my usually lovely peaches and cream complexion was quite green. They commented on the horrific dark circles under my eyes and ordered me to bed. Which meant I didn't have to participate in returning the moving truck, so of course I obliged.
But here I am, 10:15 p.m., feeling like shit. Nausea that doesn't seem to go away, tired, with sore boobs, but afraid to test. And of course having slight fear that I was "lucky" enough to conceive multiples, thus explaining the early arrival of the symptoms. And lets not even go into the fact that I'm really probably not pregnant at all but catching the flu. Maybe I'll test tomorrow. (Forget it, you all KNOW I'm going to test tonight...just waiting one more hour)