... something. As ever, no idea what. Tomorrow I will officially piss on my first stick. We're pretty sure it will be negative, but treacherous hope rises at the slightest provocation.
Meanwhile, we pack everything we own except for the dross we're finally turfing (including the famous Tic-Tacs), for the move to Roseneath, prettiest darn house in the Southern Hemisphere. We think this move is ushering in a new age of prosperity and good fortune. And if there's some weird electro-magnetic embryo-sucking sinkhole under our present abode, we're escaping that, too. Ha ha! Take that, dashed sinkhole!
And I have no symptoms of pregnancy which cannot also be explained by PMS, so we're probably still at Square No-Baby, despite the excellent, syringe-free insemination of two Fridays ago. (Which does not mean that DD was any more directly involved than usual, thank you very much.)
So more (and I hope better) news soon, despite continuing intransigence of Stupid Miscarriage Clinic.
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