To be or not to be

It's been so hard to write this past week. Not as if I have not had anything to write about, but, with just one topic dominating my mind I have found myself unable to really express it in a way in which any of you will be able to follow this absorb train of thought. I also think it is difficult because once again I walk the fine line of what is appropriate and what is not. How much of myself should be posted for others to see. Typically, if it just concerns myself, I don't argue about it. But when it concerns others, specifically my husband...I am forced to sit back and decide which route to take. As usual though, I don't ere on the side of caution and just write about it anyway!

Trying to get pregnant is a very interesting venture. I know when I (cover your eyes you squeamish people and those related to me by blood or marriage) ovulate. Therefore I know the exact days that I could conceive. And I know that one those days if all went correctly I just very well might have. (Get the point?) So now you sorta sit back and wait. And while you wait the strangest things go through your head. One recurring thought is that of complete panic. They sorta go something like this:

"Um, can I take that back?"

Or

"What the heck did I just do, what were we thinking"

So, you panic one second and realize that maybe it didn't work. That maybe trying *numerous* days in row just didn't work. Phew! Relief! You read the stats of how many people don't get pregnant the first go around and you think that maybe that is you in this case. But then, just as you think that and a ping of relief washes over you, in that same exact moment as you sigh that ping of relief a feeling of sadness just comes right in behind it because you remember that you do want to be a mommy. How disappointed you will feel if the test does come back negative but how happy I will feel to see it come back positive. How great it will feel to have a little life inside of me. Then, as I am feeling happy, can you even guess what emotion just sneaks itself right up for bat? Fear. Not fear of becoming a parent. No, no..more selfish fears! Fear for my figure. Fear of disliking my body even more than I already do. See, my body and I have a great thing going on here. I promise to not look at it with out clothes on, and it, in return, promises to look nice when hidden under clothes. Now I start thinking about never fitting into my Gap Long and Lean jeans! How expensive it will be to have to buy all new jeans in an all new bigger size because we all know how Italian girls hips spread after pregnancy. And then, I think of all my pretty Victoria Secrets and how I might not ever be able to wear them again because we all know that, um, *they* change too and then the panic feeling seeps right back in because of all the parts of my figure *they* always seemed to be the part that never frustrated me. And then it brings me right back to the beginning.

Panic, Sadness, Happiness, Fear.

These are the four basic emotions that I have been feeling for the past 5 days. Therefore, you will have to excuse me if my post are not that interesting because there is only so much one can say about this fun merry-go-round that I am on. There is only so much interest I can bring to this fascinating topic. I won't know until next week. I won't give you the exact day because that would just be to creepy. I need just a hint of privacy here although you do know that whether or not I am will be posted for all to see. Hey, I'll need your support either way!