After all this time you would really think that I would not have any hope left. Strangely I do. There is a slight chance I might have O'ed on my own this week. This is really strange because I didn't even O while on crazy drugs. I'm pretty sure that I have only O'ed twice in my whole life. We might have even managed to catch it, on the off chance that I really did. I haven't even told Hub that I might have. I don't want to get his hope up too. It's bad enough when just one of us are disappointed. I do not, in any way, expect that I will see those illusive lines. But the hope is sort of nice while it lasts.
It's really strange finding comfort in hope that you know is just going to be squashed. I've really tried not to fall into all the old habits I had while in IF treatment. You know like, wandering through the baby department while your out shopping, and looking on E*b*y and a certain list for anything baby related. Sadly have looked, I can't help it.
I think this is what addicts feel like. They do things that they know are bad for them, but they can't help them selves. I know that in two weeks all of the tiny pink and blue onesies I hunted down in Internet land will sting... kinda alot. But; I just can't help it. I can't help but fuel that precious molecule of hope. For a small moment in time if nothing else I get that maybe. Maybe is so much better then No. So I'll settle in with the maybe, at least until its gone.