Nope.

Negative.

In g-d only knows how many cycles of trying this shit, we have never heard anything but this.

We have never seen anything but one-lined pee-sticks.

I'm so sick of it. I want my fucking tiger already. Two and a half years, and we don't even have a damn goldfish in a little plastic bag.

Now I will go see my therapist, who went to the same clinic, and now has two kids, and last session told me how there's nothing like the feeling you get when you hear that you're pregnant. And she will try to tell me that there is nothing essentially the matter with me, with us, that the reason it works for everyone else but not us is just bad luck.

And I may fire her. Or slap her. Or just crumple up into a ball on her stupid little white couch and howl.