It's official. Not much else to say, I guess.
Stop all medications, wait for period (which I'm sure will be such a joy to have, considering all the drugs), call tomorrow to make appointment with Dr. Pipsqueak for a follow-up.
I'm really not surprised. Yeah, I'm sad, frustrated, and feeling more alone than ever. But I'm not going to think about it right now-I can't deal with it.
It really sucked to have to tell Sean-he's working one of the NYC fashion shows today, and I had to call him to tell him. Sorry babe, my uterus sucks big donkey balls. Better luck next time.
It's time to hit the wine, brie, sushi and Valium, and have a rip-roaring time. Although, I'd rather be up the pole, but beggars can't be choosers.
Same old shit, different flies.........I guess maybe I'm just used to the failure. Or perhaps my skin is thicker, who knows. All I know is that I'm not pregnant.