Now THAT'S More Like It

So, given Mo's pessimistic attitude towards my faint-but-positive pee sticks, I did what any gracious wife would do and totally respected his desire for me to stop peeing until beta.

NOT.

I, of course, continued my twice-a-day rituals in secret, and just didn't tell him.  :-)

Last night, curled up in bed watching TV post-progesterone shot, Mo looked at me.  "Did you pee on anything today?"  He asked.

I was tempted to lie, but I knew the line was a little darker, so I said, "Yep. Wanna see it?"

"Only if there's something to see," he warned me.

I jumped out of bed, ran to my secret hiding place in the bathroom drawer (I know, original), and brought him the most recent stick.

His eyes began watering.  "Holy shit," he said.  "You're pregnant."

I couldn't help myself.  "I told you so!" I giggled.  We then had a magical moment full of hugs, and tears, and sparkling rainbows, which lasted approximately 15 seconds until the end of the commerical break.  :-)

I am not going to lie to you, it was nice to have validation.  To know that I am NOT hallucinating imaginary second lines -- for today, at least, I am pregnant.

Thank you for all the comments and well-wishes -- I promise to stop writing about my pee-athon post-beta.  I totally get it if you are OVER me at this point (I'm a little OCD, in case you didn't notice) -- but I sure would appreciate it if you stuck around.  I am not cocky enough to assume that I won't need more hand-holding, or perhaps a shoulder to cry on, in the coming weeks.