I can't decide whether I'm eagerly waiting for tomorrow to arrive, or whether I'm dreading it. Both, I guess.
On the one hand, this whole belly-of-the-whale/waiting torture/inbetween-time thing just can't go on any longer. It's not sustainable. I cannot keep feeling like my period is coming any second now (I don't feel this way all the time, but more than enough of it). I cannot keep imagining the best and worst scenarios tomorrow might bring, over and over and over again. These have been the longest two weeks of my life.
But on the other hand, the only advantage of dragging out this time is that, while I'm still waiting, there's still reason to be hopeful. Tomorrow will be the end of the hope: either it will be fulfilled, or snuffed out. And the stark reality of that scares the life out of me. My desire to keep hoping is what's prevented me from testing early with a home pregnancy test: unbelievably, there's a part of me that simply doesn't want to know.
But tomorrow will come, whether I want it to or not. Fortunately, I have plenty to keep me busy during the day.
A million thanks to all of you who've been commenting - your support means more than I can say.