Not pregnant.

And probably not able to afford the Clomid this month (we have no infertility coverage from our insurance). There is a small chance we may be able to switch insurance plans and get infertility, but they will mark it as a pre-existing if I get any treatment in the 90 days before then, so I can’t call my ob/gyn and get her feedback on this month’s chart.

And part of me tries to say, “Eh, what’s another month?” and then I remember that every day this month, I was so anxious to take my temperature that my body woke me up in the middle of the night to do it. Not too big a deal when you consider that the crappy teeth and carpal tunnel that I got from the last pregnancy are waking me up most nights anyway.

And my mom was trying to be helpful yesterday, and said that half of the 4 years that we’ve been trying don’t count because I wasn’t ovulating. She meant that the precedence of failed cycles is smaller than I believe– but in my heart it felt like “your heartache doesn’t count”.

And I’m realizing that my inclination is to not talk about it. I took a pregnancy test on friday but didn’t tell anyone it was negative because . . . I don’t even know– maybe I didn’t want the sympathy? Maybe I didn’t want to see anyone elses disappointment? Maybe I didn’t want to be vulnerable and admit my own disappointment to the world? Probably my mom doubts that it’s really been 4 years because I haven’t shared every cycle, or even half of them. My SIL’s kept her informed. She was a part of the drama as she announced to the whole family that so-and-so wasn’t pregnant this month, either.

But I’m beginning to get new ideas about my mom. I was sick with allergies a couple weeks ago, and she kept urging me to leave and be sick at home, rather than stay for the family viewing of West Wing. When I told her that we would have to stay because we didn’t have time to get home and watch it, she said “Fine, but you have to stop complaining because I can’t deal with it.” And finally it dawned on me– she encourages me to suppress my feelings because they hurt her, as a mom. She scoffs as my sensitivity and my vulnerablity because she wants her baby girl to be safe from any hurt. I always interpreted it to be her disdain for my inherent wrong-ness. We were talking about insurance and pre-existings and she said “Well, we can go get a pregnancy test and put the issue to rest!” and there was the faintest glimmer in her eye, and I realized that she desperately wants me to be pregnant. Which sort-of makes me feel even more sad. My body is letting my mom down, too.