The long and whiney road

Even though my energy levels are at zero, no wait at negative one actually, maybe even lower, I am going to strap my boots back on and go see Dr. Stonehenge at nine a.m. tomorrow morning. I'm going to maneuver his office with my whiney baby and I'm going to look him squarely in the eye. I'm going to hold his gaze for ten whole seconds and then I'm going to blurt out, "do you really believe we have a snowball's chance in hell of this ever working, and if you don't then why are you putting me through this hell!?"

Now all I have to do is translate all that into French: Snowball=boule de neige, chance=chance, hell=enfer. Somehow I think it will lose its oomph. The French language is so colorless. Maybe I should just act slighted and uninvolved.

And for the record, I'm still having symptoms. Still having pelvic pressure, sore boobs and belly button tugging. I have learned a valuable lesson.

Symptoms=pregnant/not pregnant.