T-2, Or so.

I don't know what everyone gets all worked up about! Geesh! It's just two weeks! In fact, I should know this weekend if my eggs and DH's junk got the party started. Who's counting days? Just because my every waking moment has been CONSUMED with wondering, "Am I?" "What if I am?" "What if I'm not?" "I'm not puking and my boobs don't hurt - does that mean I'm not?" "My boobs hurt and I feel like I'm going to vomit every time I open the fridge - does that mean I am?"

I tried using the prego excuse on Brian this weekend..."Honey, I can't possibly help paint the house, I might be pregnant! You wouldn't want your little peanut exposed to fumes, would you?" Yeah...that went over like a ton of bricks.

But, we were at Costco, and I couldn't help lingering over the baby clothes. I said to DH, "Just think, honey, a year from now our baby could be wearing this little jumper, just like a million other babies across the nation with mommy's and daddy's who buy everything from this megamart." Ahhhh. "Let's go get a big slice of pizza!"

In all honesty, though, I keep recalculating the days and planning when I'm going to take the HPT. We even bought a bulk-size carton of them at Costco.