Day 6...

Six days ago, I heard the most amazing words since my husband said "I do." I got the phone call that said, "Congratulations, you're pregnant." I am still in a state of disbelief. I want to preface this post by saying that if you are hoping that this is a bouncing off the walls post - this won't be it. I'll explain....

When I went in on Monday for my blood draw, I was feeling optimistic because of the positive tests, but I was still cautious because I didn't know if the hcG trigger was causing the lines. Since IF trains you to become used to disappointment, I'm of the mindset of preparing for the worst. My first beta came back at 75. While it was a good first beta, I couldn't really allow myself to feel much of anything until I went back to see if it doubled. On Wednesday, the number came back at 180, and my estrogen and progesterone levels were good. so it started to feel slightly more real.  My family knew that we were going through IVF, so they had been waiting to hear the results. Needless to say, they are thrilled for us.

And here I am, wanting so bad to be excited. Trying so hard to believe that this is real. But stupid infertility brain is doing everything it can to protect me from disappointment. To make me assume the worst so that when what I have always expected is the inevitable happens, I won't be completely crushed. It's a horrible feeling to have. On top of it is the guilt that I am not bouncing off the walls. How can I NOT be thrilled when the thing that I have been wanting and praying for for nearly 3 years has finally happened. I know that this isn't right - I know that I need to adjust my thinking. I just feel so conflicted. I want to enjoy every last minute that I am pregnant, no matter how long it lasts.  I need to have faith that this is our take home baby.

For now, I am pregnant.  I have been pregnant for 6 days. And I love our baby.

My Last 10 Days in Pictures

So, a week and a half ago, I went to the RE for a checkup, and they were all like "Drop your pants and spread 'em!" And I was like:

BUT, as usual, I obliged. They took a look at the real estate and told me that everything looked awesome and I should come in on Saturday to double check things, but to plan for the embryo transfer on Monday!  So I was like.....

But inside, I was like:

So, I semi-patiently waited till Saturday, and then until Monday. My transfer was supposed to be at 12:30, but at 2pm, I was STILL waiting. 

Finally, they brought me back for the procedure. Before the transfer they showed me a picture of the embryo they were transferring.

How cool is that??! That's MY baby! Ok, really, it's my ball of cells, but it's the closest to a baby I've ever come. As I was spread-eagle on the table with my legs in stirrups, the embryologist showed me the embryo on the screen. It was actually hatching! I could see the bubble on the side showing where it was breaking out and getting ready to implant. Perhaps the coolest thing ever.  After the transfer was done, I laid around for about 30 minutes, and then got an ass-shot of hcg and was sent on my way, with a picture of what was referred to as my "excellent quality" blastocyst and instructions for the next week. Which essentially consisted of returning to my normal activities, sans caffeine and alcohol.  Although I've done a whole lot of this as well:

My betas are tomorrow. TOMORROW. That means tomorrow I will know whether this worked. Whether, for the first time ever, I can say "I'm pregnant." I've NEVER been able to say that before. Ever.  And as much as I hope and pray for a positive result, then a whole new set of worries set in. Namely that I have a successful pregnancy. And then that the baby is healthy. And from there the list goes on. I had told myself that I was NOT going to test before my betas, because I didn't know how long the hcg would remain in my system, and I didn't want to worry about a false positive. BUT thanks to a lot of peer pressure, I caved. I tested yesterday and this morning. And the good news is that it wasn't negative. SO, all this means is that it's not a DEFINITE no.  Now I wait for betas, and wait to know if this is real.

I Hate Grocery Shopping

I would rather clean the bathroom than go grocery shopping.  Especially in the vast metropolis in which I live. Going grocery shopping now involves far too much strategy as compared to what it did in my previous suburban habitat.

First - the grocery store here runs out of carts.  Running out of carts means one thing - there are hundreds of individuals perusing the grocery aisles, either completely unaware of their surroundings so as to cause traffic jams, or moving at an aggressive pace that often results in cart-on-cart collisions or injuries to the achilles tendon.

A trip to the grocery store requires an assessment of other external factors so as to achieve optimal timing. 1) Is the football game still on?  2) What is the weather like? 3) Is it a traditional meal time? 4) Is it a holiday weekend?  Adding to the frustration is that often, the most optimal timing for a grocery excursion is around 7-8pm. However, this is also the time frame in which most people are parking their cars in the limited number of street parking spaces available within the neighborhood, so vacating a space to get to the grocery store may result in a substantially longer trek with weighty food stuffs upon return to said neighborhood.

In my fridge, there is currently a carton of milk, string cheese, and a bag of grapes that are too old to be eaten.  Yet here I sit, paralyzed by the dread the comes prior to any necessitated grocery store excursion. Wish me luck, friends. I've gotta take one for the team......

Is It Worth It, Can You Twerk It?

I don't care who you are or what you claim - every one of us gets just a little bit gleeful at the prospect of someone hitting the bricks. Something about watching the human body flail awkwardly before the moment of impact makes our faces light up in anticipation. Obviously, no one wants to witness someone get hurt, but for that split second before it actually registers that there is danger involved, watching someone fall is hilarious.(I'm not wrong here- don't argue).

Today I hit the mother lode in terms of amazing falls.

I have watched  this at least nine times. It doesn't get old. Hats off to YOU fair lady, for getting me through an otherwise monotonous work day.

In other news, I'm sure you've all been waiting with bated breath for my next update......or not. The last few weeks have been a dog and pony show of intense work projects, travel a vacation that wasn't really a vacation, and a couple of Dr.appointments. 

Most notably, the appointment where my eye doctor told me I need to switch to glasses 50% of the time. To be fair, I was also given this instruction a couple of years ago, but much like a stop sign, I treated it as optional. This time though, Dr.H laid the hammer down. So, $400 and a pair of Gucci specs later, I am officially an eyeglass wearing phenom. Or maybe I just wear glasses. 

Less notably (probably because I'm so used to it), I also had a good old date with the vag cam.  It feels like one of those relationships that you aren't entirely happy in, but you stay because it's comfortable. I don't really like feeling like the subject of voyeurism, but I've become so used to being pantsless in front of an audience, it just feels normal. In any case, turns out that my lining was perfect, but I was a few days away from being ready for the embryo transfer, so for now, our little Encino Man is safely chilling while I bide my time until my next  appointment, this Sunday. If I had to guess, I'd  bet on an embryo transfer early next week, which means I intend to imbibe somewhat heavily this weekend as an optimistic fare-thee-well to alcohol. 

Until next time....