burnt toast life

three for three

Well… I’m pregnant.

I know, what’s up with that? No exclamation marks? No joy? Nope. Not for this girl. Pure, unadulterated terror over at my house. Eric barely glanced up from what he was doing when I told him this morning. “Not a shock. Now let’s get to twelve weeks so we can really celebrate,” was his reply. I don’t blame him. I feel the same way.

I’m grateful that I can get pregnant easily. It would seem that I am my mother’s daughter in that respect. But unfortunately, I also follow her pattern of RPL. Now I just need to find a way to make it stop, once and for all. After that I’ll study up on how to be less of a control freak, which I so clearly am.

I got back the results of the clotting disorder tests: all normal. Just as I figured they would be. I’m going to keep taking the Lovenox as an added precaution, because I already bought it, and because I’m a glutton for punishment? I don’t know. I just can’t bear to do everything the same this time around and then wonder why it goes wrong. I have to try something.

So much thanks to everyone who offered advice on making the shot more bearable, especially Ashley who gave me a whole paragraph on what to do differently. It went sooo much better last night (except that Eric kept making me giggle as he said, “sloooowwly, oh so slooooowly” and it’s very nerve wracking to giggle while you have a needle inside of you). Below is my bruise pic. The big one is from the first night, the tiny little dot below it is from last night. For some reason the other side didn’t bruise one bit.

evil, evil LOVENOX

evil, evil LOVENOX

So what’s different this time? Let’s see, I knew I was probably pregnant because my throat is being funny already. It’s nothing like last time… not even close, but I couldn’t help but panic a little. It got that “weird feeling” after drinking my water with lemon, so I nixed lemons from my ever dwindling list of things that are OK to eat. It also happened after a salad, so avocados got cut from the list, too. One of the great things about an elimination diet is that you are so, so sensitive to what’s bothering you that it’s easy to figure out what the culprit is within hours. It’s also one of the crappy things about it. Bake sale today at work = no fun for me at all.

I’ve also been chugging water. Because I got up so many times to fill my cup at work, I brought in a half gallon pitcher to keep track of how much I really was drinking every day. Yeah… I’ve been drinking more than a gallon. Almost two, probably (I don’t measure at home). Is that even healthy? I can’t figure out if I’m really that thirsty, or if I’m just desperate to stave off “weird throat feeling” because I’m so terrified of it. All I know is I hit the bathroom upwards of 10 times a day and it’s terribly distracting. This should not be the case when you’re only 3 weeks pregnant.

I’m trying my best to remain calm. Beta tomorrow. Important beta Monday.

But for today, I’m pregnant.

The most underwhelming BFP in the history of BFP’s

I’m going to let you all in on a little secret. Don’t get mad at me, OK?

I’ve been eerily calm, for like, weeks now.

I cannot explain it, nor can I give any advice on how to achieve it. Months ago I was a veritable bundle of anxiety, bouncing around worst-case scenarios and totally owning that shit. Not only was I highly stressed, but I was also kind of proud of it. I had issues. My stress was justifiable.

But lately, out of nowhere, I’ve adopted this live-and-let-live, whatever will be, will be attitude. I wasn’t even trying. In the past, every time that I tried to convince myself to calm down, I did so with the wink-wink, nudge-nudge of knowing it wasn’t actually going to happen. It’s like telling yourself to appreciate every moment, or don’t sweat the small staff. Nice in theory – mostly impossible to practice. Then something inside of me inexplicably shifted.

It was an interesting way to spend the 2ww (or in my case, 1ww). Of course I was aware that I could be pregnant. But… I didn’t think about it every moment. I didn’t obsess over when I could test. Actually, I didn’t even decide whether to POAS until this morning. This morning! As in, 2 minutes before I actually did it (I think deep down I knew I would. But I didn’t obsess over it like last time).

Despite my lack of nail-biting, I was extremely relieved to get that BFP this morning. Telling Eric was pretty funny, he could not have been less surprised. Later on he admitted to be hesitant to get too excited until 12 weeks, which I totally get. It’s scary and exciting. I fully realize that I should be freaking the hell out, but I’m just… not.

There’s a tiny, eensy weensy voice inside that’s wondering if my HCG levels are registering a positive because I wasn’t back to zero a week before the transfer. How high do your levels have to be to get a positive? Plus, I did get the HCG injection on Thursday with the transfer. Could it (gasp!) be a false positive? I suppose it could. I’m hoping not.

Beta tomorrow. Then a few weeks of terrifying ultrasounds. Then hopefully trimester two brings a sense of security.

But for now… calm. Maybe it really will turn out OK in the end.

…but I promised I would never take a picture of something I peed on

I am truly sorry that I’ve cringed at this before. Because once I saw the faintest hint of that second line, the camera came out. Immediately.

test

I took this test today, 6dp5dFET, for two reasons. 1) I wanted to be prepared for that phone call after my beta tomorrow, be it prepared with celebration or with a huge bottle of vodka and 2) I was 100% convinced that I was getting my period. No matter that the Progesterone delays it for most women, so even if I wasn’t pregnant I probably wouldn’t be getting it. I’ve been keeping a list of symptoms that I will post separately if this is really real, but let’s just say I have none of the good ones and all of the ones that match AF. Including a sense of dread like she was right around the corner.

I have been dreaming of the moment of telling Eric. I tried to plan it and make it special. What actually happened was that I ran into the living room, threw the test onto his lap and stood there grinning like an idiot. He picked it up, glanced at it, and said, “No, I don’t believe it. Why did you do this? This isn’t real.” Apparently he refuses to get excited or celebrate until the beta since I’m so “pumped up full of drugs.” Totally not the reaction or presentation I had planned. As for me, my hands are shaking so I need to stop typing.

This is effing unreal.