I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that second pink line. I shook and sling that stupid home pregnancy test around like it was a fly swatter. And when I was positive that second line wasn’t going anywhere (like… where, exactly? Sticking to my bathroom wall as I flung it about?) I ran into the bedroom and despite the early hour jumped on the bed, woke Patrick up and screamed “IT’S POSITIVE! IT’S POSITIVE!” Then I burrowed back under the covers and snuggled up for a few more minutes of precious sleep while this was still our little secret.

A few hours later, groggily, I woke up trying to remember if it was real. What had happened. Something didn’t feel quite right. So I climbed out of bed and went back to the bathroom just to check. I looked on the bathroom counter where I was sure I’d left that test. Nothing there. I checked in the trash can, I checked under the covers, I checked both nightstands. Nothing. Was it possible it was just one of those weird half awake and half asleep dreams?

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized I was going to have to take another test. It was the only way to know. And as I watched that one little pink line just hang out all by its lonesome, I knew. It had all been in my head. Even though I could still feel the scruff of his goatee as he pressed his groggy face to mine. I could still sense the warmth under the covers as we huddled under the covers and whispered excitedly about what was next. I could still feel the cold floor briefly under my feet that were barely touching the ground.

It’s amazing. The mind can make the body be so certain and feel so many things. I spent an entire two weeks with stomach cramps and nausea. Headaches. Heartburn. Sore boobs. Bone-crushing fatigue. I was so certain. Then Saturday morning I had my dream. And when I woke up, once my frantic search had determined it was all a dream, I noticed that those symptoms were gone. Along with my hope for this cycle. Everything just… evaporated.