So, what a surprise - not.
I did the second test this morning and it was negative.
I kind of knew it would be...well, I was as certain as you can be about these things, which is frankly not very.
Anyway, the bonus (and you've got to look for the positives wherever you can I reckon) is that meant I didn't need a blood test, and therefore avoided another needle.
I told T once that one blue line appeared once more and she said "oh, I was hoping it would be a miracle".
Of course, so was I, but it's almost like I have put that experience behind me already.
Like some kind of self-preservation tactic with a mantra that goes something like: I can't change the past, focus on the next goal, focus on the future.
And all the while I am so, so thankful for the fact that I have been allowed goals and future chances in the form of those seven little embryos currently sitting in their icy home in the middle of a lab in Brisbane.
So, in the meantime, I am having less and less fun playing "Where's My Period?" - the lesser known gift with purchase that came with the Where's Wally? books sold in Kazakhstan, Berlin and Chechnya during the 1992 Christmas sales.
I note that the countries chosen for this interesting marketing trial are not known for their senses of humour, which is probably the reason Where's My Period? did not take off around the world.
Bullshit, of course, but you've got to laugh, don't you? We all know the alternative just won't boil anyone's kettle.
I was joking with a friend today that my period is like some rebellious teenage runaway, most likely hiding out in some seedy back alley.
No phone calls, no texts, no email to let me know where it is or that it still even exists - and no indication at all that it even wants to show up.
It's been missing for a full week tomorrow.
Should I call the police?
Haha. I didn't sleep very well last night, can you tell?