Somehow I just knew.

Somewhere deep down I knew this first IUI wouldn't work.
I woke up at 5:30 with killer cramps and Aunt Flow was there to say good morning with full gusto.
I called my mom and then my RE. I'm going in for my baseline Monday afternoon (I can't skip my morning class).
I can't bring myself to tell AJ.
He called yesterday on his lunch just to see what the pee stick said...he sounded so disappointed when I told him it was negative. He even asked if I was joking, telling him it was negative just to tell him it was positive when he gets home. I don't know if I can handle his face when I tell him we have to go through another IUI.
People weren't kidding when they said this IUI shit is emotional. I couldn't help but get all misty eyed on the drive to work this morning...to Drive by Incubus! Then again just moments ago reading another blog post. (I love Nat the Fat Rat, she posted yesterday about her struggles)
The strange part was that I didn't cry this morning when I started. I just went back to bed.
I did however dream about me crying...and I mean crying. Balling and inconsolable. When my alarm went off and I got up for the day hit snooze I had a tear rolling down my face. 
Why can't the good dreams come true? Not the ones about nothing but crying and pain.

I feel I need a girls day, filled with painting toes, eating chocolate cake and chick flicks...but I only want it with people who understand...other infertility fighters. The ones who say "I know how you feel" and really do.
I think I may just get a chocolate cake for myself anyways.