Vomit City. That is what my house was last night. We ate at Mazzio's, Jason had a salad and I (unhealthy as I am) did not. Well, guess who didn't throw up from midnight until six in the morning? Me, that's who.

Poor Jason. He's so miserable and he looks awful. I went home at lunch and babied him. He liked it. He grew up with a "Suck It Up" Mom, whereas I had an "Awwww Poor Baby" Mom. And I prefer the latter. I think he does too.

I also went home at lunch and took a sneaky pregnancy test. I just didn't feel like telling Jason about it while he was curled up on the couch. It was negative. I'm only 12 dpo (days past ovulation) but the test is supposed to be sensitive enough to detect three days early. I expected it to be negative, but I guess I'll try again on Friday. Mindy made me take one last Saturday because I told her about my Pathetic Scene and she said, "That's what happened to ME when I was pregnant!" It was negative, though. I knew it, though, because it was way too early, but it was sort of fun giggling about it together.

You know, whether I chart or not, "try" or not, worry or not, pray or not, I just think about babies and pregnancy all the time. I guess it's just the way it's going to be. I don't think I'm a freak. I think I'm just a woman.