Can't Stop, Won't Stop

Today I'd like to make a little confession.  I think I might have a minor, teeny-tiny addiction.

This sounds crazy right?  Being raised in one of the most addiction-averse churches around you'd think the warnings to steer clear of any must-have-really-need-side-effects-be-damned emotions would be easy peasy.  We don't even drink coffee or tea for goodnessakes.  But yet, here I am.

It's true, I walk into a Walgreens or CVS or Wal-Mart and find myself moseying on over to an aisle that only serves as a gateway to bad news.  I scan the options and plop down on the counter (hidden under bags of candy or stickers or other ruses) my over-the-counter drug of choice. 

The First Response Early Result Home Pregnancy Test.

Round these parts they're known as FRER HPT's.  And they're everything an addict should avoid.

Here's the deal, they rope you in by selling more than one in a pack. So you think, ok, I'm curious, let me buy one.  But you have to buy two.  Or sometimes three.  Which, given my track record this past year (year - ugh!) means triple the disappointment.

Then comes the waiting game.  You deal with the aunt you hope won't visit.  Details spared because, well, gross.  Then you do the more rewarding FRER OPK's (another day) and then you start counting.  And reading the message boards.  And scolding yourself for having turned into a little bit of a psycho under the guise of being well-informed.

And, around 6 days after the opk smiley face, you start to wonder if you can pee on a stick yet.  More lingo - don't you feel enlightened?

You see, I get edgy around then.  Even if the past 3 or 4 weeks I've been a splendid wife with a fun-loving disposition, around this time I start to get the itch.  Not physical, totally and completely mental.

I think of the statistics.  I know that you can in theory start to get a faint line on day seven.  I know that most people don't.  I know that the best time to POAS is first thing in the morning.

And each morning I wake up, having to pee like crazy, warm in my covers, and I have a decision to make.  Do I do it?  Do I risk the fact that it could just be too early?  Because let's face it,  if I POAS and it's negative, it could just mean that I didn't wait long enough, and I know nothing.  But, what if it's the opposite?  What if this is the time?  What if I'm about to discover what I've been waiting so many months to see?  What if this could make my day, my week, my decade?

Oh man, and I have to pee.  But I have to decide first.

And that, dear friends, is when the addict behavior comes out.  I know what I should do.  I know what J-Man suggests I do.  I know what the statistics say.  I know how sad it will make me and how conflicted I'll feel.  I know I'll question the validity of the test.  I know I'll feel silly for spending however many dollars just to ruin my day and I know I'll wish I hadn't.

Sadly, as one of my students used to say all the time, nobody's f***ing perfect. 

So I waste the money, hold the test at every angle in the light, curse as I drop it in the trash, pull it out one more time just to be sure, and then act pissy for anywhere from 2-24 hours following.  And when the angry, I'll-never-get-pregnant deal wears off, I'll be counting down until I could/should/will test again.  Because maybe it was too early and I still have hope.

It might be time to stage an intervention. J-Man, maybe you should hide them from me.  Even though I'd go out and buy more.  Maybe I need a program with rewards for each day I wait to test.  Maybe I should lower my expectations and chill out.

At any rate, it's a tough place to be these days. 

My biggest solace is to know that I could be crazier.  There is after all a whole website dedicated to public opinion polls judging HPTs.  Don't believe me? http://www.countdowntopregnancy.com/pregnancytest_gallery/  I'll stick with judging my own though.