After lifting steel picnic tables in order to hang banners at Walk America this weekend, my back was sore. I decided to visit my friendly neighborhood chiro (or "chiro tractor" as Boo would say.) Our conversation went something like this:
C: So, what do you know?
Me: My lower back hurts.
C: What happened?
Me: I think I lifted too many tables at Walk America.
C: Oh that was this weekend wasn't it? How was the walk?
Me: I didn't actually walk, we had a doctor's appointment.
C: Are you pregnant? You are, aren't you?
Me: No, you know we've been trying for a long time now. We had an IUI on Saturday, our third actually. If this one doesn't take, then we'll most likely look into IVF.
C: That stinks! You had to deal with Boo being a preemie and now this? You didn't have troubles with Boo did you?
C: You know, I think you are pregnant now. I can feel it. It sounds wierd, but I usually know before my patients do and I think you are. I had a patient that kept telling me that her ears were full. I knew she was pregnant before she did. She called me the next week to tell me I was right. I bet you are pregnant right now! You call me when you find out.
Ummm...not sure how I feel about this. I love my chiro, she's wonderful and a sweetheart. But can she know? Do you think she can? Am I starting to get my hopes up?
Dammit, I hate it when I get my hopes up. It's like slowly climbing a steep mountain, one step~one labourious step at a time. You let a little hope in, then another and just one more. You don't think you can do it, but you do. You try not to, but you let that little light in, one ray at a time. You are nearing the top, it's right there in your grasp. You all out reach for it when you temp goes down and the cramps come. Suddenly all goes dark, like an avalanche has hit you, engulfed you in its debris tumbling you down down down into the arrival of AF and it's aftermath.
My question is, why aren't there safety ropes for this journey?