It’s been a strange week.
On Friday I took my mum for afternoon tea at Loch Lomond, played crazy golf with Kian and Nikki on the Saturday and had dinner plans on Sunday.
It was a good weekend. I had lie-ins, I ate chocolate, drank wine and laughed a lot (my husband was responsible for most of that).
But there’s still this small niggly feeling way down in the pit of my stomach. I’m still gutted I’m not pregnant. It’s still on my mind. I can’t help it.
Ovulation week is next week (whoa when did that creep up?) Every month, I cant wait for my fertile week to come. It’s a chance to try again. But then I feel anxious because, well – I NEED TO TRY AGAIN!
I think we’ll stick with the testing for a while longer. I kind of liked the validation of knowing for sure when I was ovulating. Or maybe I just liked seeing a positive.