A journal entry from April 27, 2019
I was only a day late, but my hope is at its peak. I had a feeling I was pregnant a week before my expected period. I tested once and it showed negative. But it did not dampen my hope one bit.
I try to lecture myself not to expect too much. I reminded myself that I’ve been there before and I cried with disappointment time and again. The symptoms were there, but it probably all psychological again.
And even with the same old song, I can’t stop myself from hoping (hoping deeply). I know if I’m wrong again this time I’d cry but this time my waiting will be until my 4th-day late period. If it took longer, I’ll probably cry in joy but it only means that if I tested and it turned out negative it will be the worst so far.
journal entry April 28, 2019
I woke up today with a less expectant mood. I’m totally fine with it, at least if today brings another “nope not pregnant” news then it would be less disappointing.
My stomach is still bulging but it could just be the period coming up. My boobs feel a little heavy and a bit tender, but again its probably the period coming up.
I’ve noticed the wider areola but it might be the play of “too hopeful”. I even asked my husband to buy me cookies in a nearby sari sari store while we were at church. I feel hungry even though I had an early breakfast. But it could happen any other day. I crave a lot of different food, especially pineapples lately, but I’m a woman after all.
Now, while typing this I feel nauseated and my stomach is very acidic. I’m trying to not weep and get my hopes high. It could be the burger, french fries, ice cream and coffee doing its bad thing.
No journal entry after that, my period came up as usual. And I did cry, I cried so bad like last time. And this is a glimpse of infertility.