Calling Hell, handcart on stand-by

Naturally, because I carefully peed into a pint mug this morning, and put said mug aside for testing purposes, there was a trace of half-hearted, brownish spotting on the paper when I wiped.


But I had already unwrapped the pee-stick (another little internet cheapo pee-stick of doom), so I dunked, counted, laid it down, and stomped off to get tea and check my email. I went back after about three minutes, saw it was negative, and stomped quite hard on my way to the computer and my tea. I let H know it was negative by bellowing ‘negative!’ at him as he wandered past in his jim-jams. Me classy. Mmm.

About an hour later, I remembered there was a wet stick and a mug of pee lurking in the bathroom, and decided I had better dispose of them, really, as there is slobbishness and there is Holy Hell, What Is Wrong With You? I went in.


And then I called out, in a wobbly and probably unnaturally shrill voice, ‘H, could you come in here a minute?’. And H entered the bathroom also, and from four feet away spake thusly: ‘Blimey, that looks like a faint second line.’

And we hugged, in a very tremulous way, for quite some time. And then I told us both quite firmly not to be so bloody silly.

Because, can it possibly count, if it was negative at 3 minutes, and vaguely thinking about it at an hour? is very stern about the dangers of looking at pee-sticks after the 10 minute mark. I do not know if this stupid little fuzzy ghost of a line came up before or after 10 minutes, because I was studiously ignoring it from the next room. For an hour. Shitshitshitshit.

The obvious thing to do, was test another stick before I poured the pee away. This, as expected, occurred to me as a possibility while I was washing the pee-mug. ‘Try again tomorrow,’ says H cheerfully, missing the point entirely, bless him, which is not entirely surprising as a quivering jelly of a woman is not the best person to explain scientific method as applied to HPTs.

I have spent an unfeasible amount of time today hunting for spotting. There has been no more at all.

I feel like I’m waiting for my exam results.

First person to congratulate me will get a sharp slap. I’m sorry, but they will. No dancing until the 44 Pee-Sticks of Doom have been beaten into unambiguous submission. Which they haven’t, not by a long chalk, and I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t let H talk me out of ram-raiding the chemist for every single brand of early HPT they possess.


4 responses to “Calling Hell, handcart on stand-by

  • Rachel

    What torture to wait another day! But I love the description of how you informed your husband. Might be worth an early evening pee-stick if you can hold it for a while (and if you have the cheap ones, something I have never been able to find).

  • Heather

    Ok, Ok…I won’t say it – but only because I don’t doubt that you would fly here to slap me!

    Um, can I just say that although that website ROCKS! I had those lines late (outside the time limit) and as far as I know, this pregnancy is going well.

    It could be an evap – but if you get a different brand or another one for the second day in a row – I doubt it is evap. So, I CAN’T WAIT FOR TOMORROW!!!

  • MsPrufrock

    Wait until tomorrow…that’s all, no big deal! Oh, men.

    I look forward to seeing how this…event, transpires.

  • geohde

    All I’ll say is I had a feeling….haunting your blog..


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