It was I that chopped down the cherry tree

11 dpo. I cannot tell a lie. I have tested. It was, quel surprise, negative. I know, I know, it's too early to be depressed. I don't even usually start testing until 12dpo for that very reason. It could still turn positive.

But still. Apart from my right boob hurting there is nothing going on with me. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I like to think that I would feel something. And, yup, I know, plenty of women have no symptoms whatsoever. And why the right boob, I wonder? Why not both together? Is it trying to tell me something? Kind of like a semaphore signal? Right boob = negative, left boob = positive, both together = twins?

I'm not even all that down. I feel kind of numb about the approaching blood test. Fatalistic. Resigned. I just don't know how I'm going to react if it's another negative. But I don't think shock or surprise is going to be one of my feelings. I'll probably just stare at the wall and cry quietly at the pointlessness of wasting so much of my life on this pursuit.

I just didn't expect that this would be my life. I didn't expect I would have to stare down childlessness like this. I didn't expect I'd get to the point of never having children. Well, none of us do, do we? We don't usually have an inkling at the age of 5 that we're going to suffer from infertility at some point. If I'd have known, I'd have started trying a lot earlier.

Oh well, tomorrow's another day, I know. Another day nearer to the end of this particular wait.