Third Time is Not the Charm

It happened again. The first time was a shocker. The second time was devastating since I thought the first time was completely random (c'mon, I've really had my share of the statistics now!). But the third time - at least I had an inkling.

When I found out I was pregnant, I didn't look up the due date or go buy baby clothes or anything drastic. I did buy prenatal vitamins since I'd bitterly banished those from the house last year. And I did make an appointment with the doctor. But I think the phrase "cautious optimism" works here: I thought, "If I can make it to the 12-week mark, then I'll get excited." Well, I didn't make it. It stinks, but of the three this was the least painful (does that make it the best?).

The week has been very busy and I haven't had much time to decompress, but my break is coming. I'm heading to Toronto this week to chill with my famous artist sister. Bruce will be waking grandma and grandpa up early this week. And Scott will be "living in the lab" undoubtedly with a very burly beard. Only a few more months to finish the thesis...

The flower is from Valentine's Day. Scott picks out unique flowers for me every year, so I snapped a picture. I like this picture better than the pregnancy test shot that I took; that one is a little depressing to look at now.

By the way, thanks to whoever sent me chocolate-covered pretzels. There was no name on the box. They were tasty.