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Sorry to make you wait! But not that sorry, because I’m going to make you wait a little longer while I take us back in time to Monday, a couple of hours after I wrote that last post.

On Monday Baltimore was hit by a freak spring snowstorm, and my office was closed for the day. I was home alone all alone with the pregnancy tests, with nothing planned to occupy my time.  By the early afternoon, I was going crazy.  Since the snow had turned to rain and I still needed to complete my outfit for my niece’s baptism on Sunday, I decided to go shopping.

I pulled on some jeans, put my hair in a ponytail, and went to the bathroom.  And when I wiped, I saw it: the tiniest little bit of blood, that amount of spotting that only someone who really wants or really doesn’t want their period to arrive can see.

I wasn’t sad; I was angry.  After this cycle, where everything has seemed to go so perfectly, THIS is how it was going to end, with my period overcoming the power of the progesterone supplements to start a full three days early?  I’d been so good about not testing, and yet I was STILL going to find out I wasn’t pregnant while I was alone and sitting on the toilet?  No way was I going to let that happen.

I pulled our step ladder out of the closet, dragged it over to where Henry had “hidden” the tests, and pulled them down.  I went back to the bathroom, grabbed a cup, and managed to squeeze out just enough urine to submerge the tip of the test.  I dipped it before I had time to think. I braced myself for the tsunami of disappointment that was about to hit.

And then, slowly, it appeared: that second line that I never really believed was there. For the first time in my entire life, I had produced a positive pregnancy test.

I wasn’t even really happy, I was just confused.  I had braced myself so hard against the disappointment, and I couldn’t switch gears that quickly. So I snapped a picture of the test and texted it to Henry, with the caption “Henry…”  I think his reaction was the same as mine, because he texted back “Is that real?”

I assured him that it was. We talked some more.  I practiced smiling, which felt wrong, like by showing any sign of happiness I was going to jinx it.  I called my nurse and left a message in case she wanted to move my beta to Tuesday.  And then, because I suddenly had a LOT of nervous energy to spare and there really wasn’t anything else to be done at that moment, I continued on my shopping trip.  It was a little surreal.

Now what you have to understand is that at that point I really didn’t know whether or not to believe it.  First of all, there was that spotting to contend with: what was that?  Second of all, after what happened last time, I didn’t really trust the positive.  I never took a HPT last time but I’m assuming that at a certain point I probably would have tested positive.  I didn’t want to get too excited, only to have the tests get lighter instead of darker, or have the nurse say once again, “Well, it is a positive, but it’s a really low positive.”  So, at that point, it felt less like a guarantee than just a glimmer of hope, another piece of good news in the process, like a great fertilization report.

Henry and I tiptoed around it for the next two days.  I practiced saying the words “I’m pregnant,” which felt weird.  I started a secret Pinterest board and began repinning anything with “Things You Need to Know about The First Trimester/Pregnancy/Childbirth/Newborns!” in the caption.  I lied to my mom, told her we had decided not to test until the beta (which was still on for Wednesday).  But the spotting never reappeared, and the tests (4 in all) got darker.
 

Wednesday morning I went for my bloodwork.  I showed the nurse a photo of my most recent pregnancy test, and she complimented the nice dark line.  I was nervous all morning at work.  I added my due date to my Babycenter profile, then deleted it ten seconds later, afraid of angering the gods before the number was in.  Finally, the call came…. 305!

I called Henry. I called my mom.  After work I talked to my brother, my sister, and my best friend.  Henry called his mom and dad.  I said “I’m pregnant” with a little more confidence.  And I immediately started worrying about the next step, and all the things that could still go wrong – a number that doesn’t double, a period that starts anyway, an ectopic pregnancy, a blighted ovum, a miscarriage.

My next beta is tomorrow, so I’ll hopefully get some reassurance then.  But, as I keep reminding myself, today I am pregnant. I’m going to enjoy it.

10dp5dt

8dp5dt: To Test or Not To Test

I’m now 8dp5dt, and my beta test is in less than 48 hours.
I also have three pregnancy tests in the house.

Henry has declared himself the “Arbiter of Pee Sticks” (I imagine that this is a title conferred by the same organization that anointed Lily “Slap Bet Commissioner” in HIMYM), and put himself in charge of when I’m allowed to test so that I don't go crazy.  He also hid the tests from me, and although I know where they are (and he knows I know), they’re up too high for me to reach without some effort.  However, I’m fairly certain that I could get him to “let” me test anytime.  “Let,” of course, being subjective, since I can get the tests down myself.

So, in summation, I can test whenever I want.  We’re to the point where whatever result I get would probably be the correct one, and I keep going back and forth on whether I want to test before my beta.

Here’s my pro/con list:

For Testing Early:

• I’ll find out sooner.
• I won’t find out at work.  I’ll probably cry whether it’s positive or negative, and I’d rather not cry at work.
• Henry and I can find out together.
• I can have some time to get used to the idea, whatever it is, before the phone rings.
• We can not tell our parents that we tested early, and have a day or so when the news is private to me and Henry.
• It's not fair for the nurse to know before me.
• All the people who get pregnant naturally get to find out from a pregnancy test.  Is this really yet another thing that infertility is going to to take away from me?

Against Testing Early:

• It’s easier to find out “no” on the phone than from a smug little pee stick.
• My nurse told me not to, and she hasn’t steered me wrong yet.
• No squinting to see if there’s another line or trying to talk myself into the idea that it’s too early – assuming there aren’t any questionable beta issues again, I get an answer, and that’s that.
• Even if it’s positive, I’m still going to worry about my beta numbers, then my numbers doubling, then the ultrasound going ok, then something else… I might as well stay in this stage of worry a little longer.
• After seeing so many negative pregnancy tests, I have an irrational fear of them and am sort of convinced the very act of testing early will make it be negative.  Crazy, but I can’t help it.

In my brain, those lists pretty much cancel each other out.  The truth is, if the result is positive, I’d rather find out early (more time to celebrate!), but if it’s negative, I’d rather wait till my beta and just do it like a band aid.  But of course, there’s no way of knowing without testing, so I have this conundrum!  Can’t someone just come and secretly test my pee for me and tell me what to do?

I think what Henry and I have settled on is that I’ll test the morning of my beta.  Then we can find out together, at home, but still keep all the emotions confined to one day.  That feels right to me.

And how am I feeling?  I’m actually feeling pretty positive… I’ve been sort of crampy, which didn’t happen so much last time and I read is a good sign.  Usually I don’t cramp until after my period has started, so I don’t think it has anything to do with my period.  I haven’t had any other symptoms, but I think that’s fine… I realized that other day that after my trigger shot there was a whole lot of hcg in my system, yet I didn’t have sore boobs, nausea, etc.  So why would I get those symptoms now, when even if I am pregnant my hcg isn’t up to those levels yet?

Anyway, it’s all a mystery for the next two days.  Honestly, I’m terrified of Wednesday. 

P.S.  I never wrote about it, but I found out a little while ago that three of my embryos made it to freeze!  If I'm pregnant now, there's a pretty good chance I will never go through an egg retrieval again.  No complaints there!

Idiocy Averted

I was such an idiot this morning.  See, I’m taking an estrogen supplement right now. I have a reminder on my phone set up to go off at 8 a.m. and 8 p.m. so that I remember to take it.  I’m also taking progesterone, but that one’s three times a day – when I first wake up, when I’m about to go to bed, and in the middle of the afternoon.

This morning was my first day back at work since my transfer. Sometimes, when I haven’t been to work in a while, I sort of forget what my morning routine is.  The alarm will go off at 6, and instead of hitting snooze till 7 while Henry showers like I normally do, I wake right up and am out of bed before I remember that I can sleep a little longer.  That’s what happened this morning; I usually leave for work about 8:20, but I ended up about a half hour ahead of my normal schedule.

Before I left the house, I checked to make sure I had my progesterone in my purse. I did, and I was on my way. I got to my office, took my phone out of my purse, and there it was: “Reminder: Take Estrace!”  Fuck. I’d left for work too early to get the reminder before getting in my car, and my new schedule had thrown me off and I’d completely forgotten to take it.

So there I was with two options:

1.       Drive all the way home to take a miniscule 2 mg pill.

2.       Stay at work and wonder what damage I had done.

Of course I chose option #1 – I don’t want there to be anything I could have done differently or better this cycle to make me feel responsible if it is a negative.  I sent a few e-mails so that people would know I’d been to the office, added a meeting to my calendar for 9-9:30, and twenty minutes later my car was parked in front of my house with the flashers on while I ran in for probably less than ten seconds to swallow a tiny little pill.

At least I don’t feel guilty!