negative

It really sucks to have to sit around and wait for someone to call and tell you you're not pregnant. Couldn't I have just tested at home, had the results sooner, and cried in private?

At least I've only cried for half the day, instead of all day.

I spent a couple of hours rummaging through the garage, boxes we never bothered to unpack, closets and crannies. I feared I'd accidentally given away what I was looking for. I sent DH to the center of our garage – no easy task – because I thought I saw a bag I thought it was in. Finally, in a box in a closet in a room I don't go in I found him – my Pooh Bear. He's just the right size and shape to curl up around and cry. I have a smaller one, an Edward Bear (that's Pooh's name when he's wearing the red sweater), and he's rejoined me in bed this week. But today I needed my big Pooh bear. The one I held when the towers fell, the one I slept with every night for years, the one who's soaked up more tears than a sponge. I found him. Why does that make me feel stronger?