Went for my blood test this morning.
Now waiting for the damned phone to ring.
I’ll let you know when I know.
Ok – now I know. Beta is +ve!
Kinda knew that but it’s so good to hear it’s real.
So 1st beta – 9dp5dt – 129.
To compare – 1st beta last time 12dp5dt – 218.
If it doubles like it should it will be higher this time – I really hope this doesn’t make me MORE morning sick.
Because seeing the word feels so much more real than seeing the line. I waited till the 2 lines were equally dark – happened yesterday – before I used the super expensive test.
I’m still in shock that lightening does strike twice. I believe we were doing this to say we’d tried but that it wasn’t going to work.
Now, of course, I’m terrified we’re not going to make it through the remaining 36 weeks.
According to the calculator we’re 3w6d today.
Woot woot. Blood work moved from next tuesday to thursday – only 2 days from now. That saves like $80 in 2X a day pee sticks.
Which makes Husband happy (about the $$$) and me over the moon. 2 sleeps till beta. I am super crampy and quite cranky. A little nauseous and a lot excited to see if the numbers match the stick verdict.
I guess I was holding back on getting excited – cause I’m super thrilled.
one day at a time, one day at a time.
still 2 lines. varying in tone. Different batches maybe? All the same brand. But the line comes up faster each time so figure that’s a good sign.
now must sleep. goodnight internet. good night bubblebabies.
I’d like to start by saying – I’m an idiot.
Friday, 3dp5dt, after work I was home ‘resting’ when husband and the bub went to the park. That means I laying down as I goo.gled symptoms (like the 4-6 queasys), others experiences, how soon is too soon to POAS…when lo and behold, I find an entire section of the int.ernet that believes it’s never to early. THESE ARE MY PEOPLE. So I run upstairs, rummage through a box in the ‘guest room’ who’s only guest is the great pile of crap we’ve amassed in there, grab a pee stick, pee, see a second line, then promptly run back downstairs and goo.gle what that means. Triplets?
Anyhoo, before you get half as excited/full of dread/excited as I was, Saturday morning I went to do another and realized I’d rummaged up expired ovulation predictor kit sicks, peed anyway to find there was no line yesterday, and it was just the trigger leaving my system.
Of course, then I went out and bought good pee sticks. Came home. NOTHING. Boo.
Then – to add insult to not pregnant injury, after Bub’s soccer (yes, my 19 mo old is in a soccer program – hilarious) we thought we’d go for a nice walk through the Bea.ch – on the street, not the boardwalk. Well, isn’t it lobsterfest at a restaurant? If you’ve read earlier posts from preg. #1, you might recall horrific morning (which really meant on the edge of puking all day long for 19 weeks straight) sickness. And lobsterfest would have had me yakking on the sidewalk. And just about did yesterday too. I couldn’t believe how close I came to tossing my cookies about 2 feet from lobster-loving restaurant patrons. Felt gross for like – an hour.
So of course, came home, peed again – nada. All puke. No prego. Spent like 20 bucks peeing for nothing.
This morning…if you have nice new glasses like mine and the right light, you can def see that second line! 5dp5dt. 2 lines! Woo. Whoooo. Very cautiously very happy. Gotta run. I’m gonna need more sticks!
You know, when you see someone (ok someone like me) do some weird stretchy move then lean in and take a big whiff to see if they’re stinky?
The bo.ob equivalent is what I keep doing to my chest. Cross my arms in front and squeeze? Does that make them hurt? nope.
How about press my bag against them? nope. Brrr, it’s cold in here…and squeeze. Still nope.
I’m not feeling very prego here. Not that I did this early the last time or anything. Not that anyone on the internet, even if you spend an hour or maybe two googling it, feels anything this early.
But it seems like I should get to feel something by now.
Except this feeling of dread that creeps over me in quiet times that whispers “negative, negative, negative.
I forgot how much I hate this wait. (sorry, had to stop typing for a bo.ob check – nothing) I really is the worst.
Oh – and in case I didn’t mention it – our last little guy didn’t make it. So these two on board – they’re our only hope. My last hope. Which just splits my heart right open.
I just don’t feel ready to say, we’re done.
when you’re waiting to hear if you’re expecting.
Today is transfer day. Of the 5 that were there Sunday, 2 had arrested. 1 was no looking good. 1 was a cavitating morula and one is a perfect AA grade blast. So the A student and the B student were transferred at 10:30 this morning – the doc was 1/2 late and I told him we should get 2 babies for the price of one ’cause he kept me waiting 30 min with a full bladder.
So we’re pregnant until proven otherwise. 2 maybe babies on board.
When we were driving back to from the clinic my husband yelled at a dumb driver – “Hey- precious cargo here, blasts on board.” That made me chuckle. If only we had signs like that or a secret handshake to let others know we were the walking waiting. The hopeful. The damned. Maybe then this stupid wait wouldn’t seem so long. Or so lonely.
I am pregnant today.
And I wait.
Tomorrow I’ll learn if any of the embies survived (they don’t check them today, they just let them be). Tomorrow, if we’re lucky, one or two will be safely aboard. Tomorrow, if we’re really really lucky will be the first day of whole pile of firsts.
Tomorrow one wait ends and another begins.
It’s a big day tomorrow. Big day.
Another embie lost last night. Down to five. Fingers are crossed that the ones that are left are the fighters.
I hate hearing the news that there are less than the day before. It makes me sadder than perhaps it should.
I mourn them, those lost hopes.
Hang in there tonight little guys. Not long now.
Not me. Not jail. One of our little embies. Arrested over night. Now there are six – huddled together in their dish.
I asked husband last night if he thinks they make a loving environment in the lab. If he thought anyone sings to them or reads them stories.
He said maybe they leave some music on for them. A radio perhaps.
I said that would be nice.
I hope they leave the radio on tonight. Somehow I believe that might make them feel more like growing. I’m not sure what the stats are – but I’m willing to bet kids who listen to music, have books read to them and get sung to are less likely to be arrested.
Another report tomorrow.