12DPO = HPT Negative

I guess this wasn't it.

I couldn't have been more positive over the last two weeks. I decided in my heart of hearts that this was going to be our miracle. I prayed constantly, and I know there were others praying for us, too. That, by the way, is a wonderful feeling -- to know that others are bowing before the throne of our Creator on your behalf. Thank you for making me feel so loved.

There is a song by Kutless that I've kept on a running loop through my head -- I've seen dreams that move the mountains, hope that doesn't ever end, even when the sky is falling. And I've seen miracles just happen, silent prayers get answered, broken hearts become brand new. That's what faith can do.

It CAN do. Doesn't mean it WILL do.

So where does that leave me?

Deflated.

Asking why this has to be so hard for us.

Wanting to hide under the covers and not come out for the remainder of the weekend. (Tried that, but hubby forced me to get dressed and go out to brunch, where I promptly drank two mugs full of coffee - screw the no caffeine rule -- and a delicious egg white omelette with artichoke and feta and realized it was worth the monumetal effort to get out of bed!)

But never giving up. So the answer was Not yet. Yes, He can move mountains, but He will do so on His timing. Not mine.

I guess IVF is next.