Right after I hit Post I realized I had not done spell check. So, so sorry for the mispells if any.
Infirtles the world over know about The Game. We've all played it. Sometimes it's an easy version and sometimes it's harder than reading Shakespear in Sanscrit. I am playing a particularly engrossing version right this moment, with only six day to go until I find out the ending (which by the way will more than likely be tragic, like Romeo and Juliet, except there will be no poison for me in the end).
The waiting is not the worst part for me, it's the mind torture I go through every five minutes. One minute I KNOW I'm pregnant, so sure that I'm figuring out my maternity leave. The next, I am ridiculing myself for even thinking this is it. What would make this time any different than the last 30 times?
Poor, poor infirtles. And I don't mean that in a pity sense. It's horrible enough to deal with the causes or the "mystery" causes, the financial aspect, the toll it takes on our marriages. Why do we have to play The Game as well? I cannot wait for this damn game to end.