I hate math.

But lately, I’m obsessed with numbers.

It’s been 112 days since I got my first positive pregnancy test.

And it’s been 60 days since I had to have a D&C to remove the baby that didn’t thrive.

My period should arrive in 2 days.

But I’m waiting 5 days to test, because I promised a friend we’d test together.

She’s gone through this too.

I’m constantly counting days, averaging them out, marking my calendars, and keeping track.  Who knew trying to get pregnant would become my new full-time job?  I spent so much time trying not to get pregnant, and now that I want to?  Well, so far, it hasn’t been easy.

A friend of mine is due the day before I was.  It kills me to know this.  All the other February mommies are finding out the sexes of their babies, marveling at their growing bellies, buying clothes, furniture, and picking out names.

And I’m back at square one, thinking about things like mucous levels and peeing on sticks.

Trying to get pregnant is so sexy.

So here I sit.  This week could change things forever.

Or not.

I hate waiting…