My Mother's Day began with a scheduled home pregnancy test. How fitting, right? This time, since we were both home together, we decided we would reveal the result together. (Side note: one of the crappiest things about dozens and dozens of negative pregnancy tests is having to constantly be the bearer of bad news to your own husband.) I set a timer for two minutes and wrapped the test up in toilet paper to hide the result. The alarm rang, we nervously came together, and I held my breath as I slid the test out of the paper. Negative. Again. The sadness hit harder this time, and although I kind of expected that it would, I was still caught off-guard. See, two IUIs was all it took for us to get Caleb. And while I know that doesn't entirely have any bearing on how many rounds this one might take, it's like I'm now entering this realm of unfamiliarity, and fears that I don't particularly want to face. I honestly didn't really expect the first round to take. Bu...
Peace and mess in the absence of control