Charlotte wants details. Not sure how many I have actually.
No, I have not cried, well, except for all day Monday after I got the negative HPT after being suspicious that I might actually be pg for about a week, but that's a whole other story. Just to let you all know, on Monday, not only did I get a negative test at 14DPO, but I also felt mildly crampy and was convinced my period was on its way and the only reason it hadn't yet come was the hoo-ha bullets. I was so freaking wrong.
I am happy, in shock and a little scared, although Friday's beta makes me feel a little better. But it is comforting to know that there is nothing I can really do at this point, except take care of myself. Whatever will be will be. And for once, the odds are in my favor that it won't be unfortunate news, so my inner statistician can try to beat back my fears. I was looking forward to "odds in my favor" if we did IVF, since my R.E. told me the odds of me getting pg via IVF were 60% given my age. The idea of having the odds actually in your favor is such a nice thought.
I don't mean to sound melodramatic. I have absolutely no rational reason to be so worried. All looks well. But I was raised by my Italian grandmother who was very superstitious and had many miscarriages. She always scoffed when others had baby showers. It was counting chickens before they hatch, she would say. (No offense at all to any of you who choose to have them. It's just how my people are.) Jews are quite superstitious as well about this, according to Lo. They don't have baby showers either traditionally nor do they reveal the name of a child before its birth. So, I think both of our tendencies to hold back a little are deeply ingrained.
I have been struck by a few things that have happened recently. I woke up Wednesday morning and knew I was pregnant. I didn't wake up knowing that on Tuesday morning. The first time I wake up the morning after a major life event is very big for me--maybe it is for a lot of people. I remember the first mornings I woke up after someone I loved had died. There is a split second realization where I know, as I awake, that it really happened. It wasn't a dream. Of course, waking up that morning, it was a good feeling that it wasn't a dream.
Speaking of which, tomorrow is the anniversary of my father's death and my brother's wedding anniversary. When my brother told me he and his longtime fiancee had set a date and he told me what the date was, I paused and said, "Um..." He said, "I know. I know. I just want a good memory on that day." Further evidence that my brother desperately needs therapy. Not to mention, who wants their wedding anniversary to be on April F*ol's Day? (And yes, my father commit suicide on April F*ol's Day.)
Don't get me wrong. I am all for trying to exorcise the ghosts of the past. I once ran a race on the anniversary of my father's death called the Backwards Mile. It involved running an entire mile backwards, which is no easy feat. Not only does it work different muscles in your legs, but it also is quite a challenge not colliding with other runners. But it was fun. And I made it to the finish line without getting dizzy and falling over, which did happen to quite a few runners. The t-shirt I got for running that race says ELIM on it instead of MILE. But I digress...
I will share this detail about my trip for my Tuesday beta, after I'd gotten a positive HPT. My R.E.'s office staff, when it's not busy, often asks if you cheated when you go in for a pregnancy test or they ask how you feel. On Tuesday, I signed the sheet and no one spoke with me until I went back for my blood draw. Then the nurse went to check on what exactly I needed to have done today. She thought I needed an u/s, too. So, the Sunny Receptionist came back and asked, "Are you here for an ultrasound?"
Co: "No, I don't have my period. I just need a beta test."
Sunny Receptionist (who is pregnant--I didn't know until recently but she's started showing big time): "Okay, just a beta test."
It's funny. I am sure they were just busy, but I also felt like they kind of acted as if it was assumed that I was just in there to fulfill some sort of baseline beta requirement (as I always have been before), not because I might actually be pg. Maybe they're just so used to me not being pg that it didn't occur to them it could be otherwise (I doubt they think about me that much though). Maybe it's because I wasn't jumping up and down excitedly or telling them I'd cheated or I felt different. I was playing it pretty coy, although I told the nurse that it was the first time I thought I might be getting good news after the test. So, anyway, I thought it was funny that I kind of walked in, waited, had my bloodwork done and left, all the while keeping a little secret all to myself.
I was a little somber for my Friday beta too, largely because I was really anxious to get a good number. That was in stark contrast to another woman, also there for a second beta who was gushing in the waiting room about being pregnant. She also had to explain when she went to the ladies' room, "Oh, you know, I'm just peeing all the time now." She really irritated me.
We went out for a celebratory dinner last night. We were an hour late to meet our friends because I was trying to meet a deadline (I feel really guilty about our tardiness but I had to meet that deadline) and the doctor's appointment for the second beta cut into my work time. We had fun though once we actually got there.
See? I'm lame. I have no great details. But I am very happy, if still mired in my worrier princess ways. :-)
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1 comment:
this post is so perfect. It so captures all of that ANGST.
Sorry I am behind in reading blogs - just had to say that this was a really moving post.
xo
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