I still cry. I still mope. I still wish it was me and not just everyone else around me. I still stare at my belly in the mirror and try to remember what it was like carrying a baby in there. I still feel every gas bubble and daydream that someday it will be movement of a baby in there. lol (I admit, that one is pretty pathetic. haha) We are right about to hit 17 months of ttc. This was when I started to lose hope and give up the last time we tried to conceive —we stopped at 18 months... I don't feel that I've lost hope this time. I do have my moments where I try to accept the possibility that I may never have the chance to conceive another child; "That's just silly!" I tell myself over and over and over again. "Maybe just not in the plan for my 20's...?"
Just to top off all the wonderful negative hpt results: I gave in to the urge to test. I tested on what was supposed to be my day one. Listen to me when I say as soon as I put the cap back on the hpt, my day one started. I'm not even kidding. It was soooooo unkind.
So, today is day 3 and I'm staying optimistic. :) I'm focusing on the wonderful children in my life and my adorable little Roxy-poo (which by the way, we celebrated her 3rd birthday this past weekend —we bought her some doggie ice cream cups. It was adorable; we sang happy birthday and gave her the yummy treat. She gratefully trotted off, with the cup in her mouth, to enjoy her ice cream outside!).
. . . and life goes on.