I swore up and down when I started this that I would not tell my mom until we saw a heart beat. My mother is the queen of doom, gloom and insult.
Yesterday at 6 a.m., though, I was weak. I needed to talk to someone, anyone, and blog comments were not cutting it. So I called her and she played all happy-go-lucky. I sent her a photo of the faint line. Today I sent the 8dp5dt photo with a slightly darker line and you know what she wrote back? Not “GREAT NEWS!” Not “I love you and I’m keeping good thoughts.” No, she wrote about how she is afraid I’m getting my hopes up just to be dashed since these lines are not very strong.
Thanks mom. I have a one finger salute for you.
Do you think I’m a complete idiot? I know they are faint. I know it is WAY early and tons can go wrong and, sadly, the odds are not in my favor. I also know that keeping me optimistic right now is really important and that any doom and gloom will do absolutely nothing to change the situation.
Why can’t she just be supportive? All my blog readers are sweet and humor me. They all share stories of their faint BFPs that have turned into healthy, viable pregnancies. Can’t she just trust my body till it proves us wrong?
I guess not. I’m now back in square one. Crying and mourning the loss of Pip before he is even gone.
Ladies, if Pip stays and I start talking about having my mother in the delivery room with me, someone PLEASE smack some sense into me. I’ll even reimburse you for the plane ticket if it requires a trip to Kentucky. If Pip does not stay, gag me next time around so I don’t wimp out and call her.
Now I need to fix my makeup again as I have cried half of it off again.