I see from the calendar that I’ve avoided journaling for a week now. It’s time to revisit the habit.
One week ago, I was bouncing around, having held on to the quiet certainty that I was, for the first time in my life, pregnant. Seven days later, I have to believe I still am. It’s troublesome, these early days, because the signs are just so fleeting and subtle- for me anyway. I feel like I have to do a random act of faith every day to keep telling myself it IS real.
I’ve had two blood tests to confirm. My HCG numbers didn’t quite double in 48 hours, but close enough that my doctor was happy. I guess the rule of thumb is that they have to double in 48 to *72* hours. If that’s the case, I was on track to more than meet the mark. My clinic offered me another blood test two days later, but I declined. I’d gone stark bonkers waiting for that second result, I figured that was more stress than strictly necessary. I wish now that I hadn’t said no!
Otherwise, the signals that something’s going on inside of me are parts of normal life. Just together do they add up to something more. Sore boobs (I’m finally out of that B cup, mom!), constipation, an incredibly dry mouth, and dreams that would scare Satan. I can’t tell if the nauseated feel is in my head or not. Smells are starting to hit me hard. I’ve also gone from being a champion napper to downright narcoleptic.
I keep peeing on the sticks just to watch that second line show up. I don’t even have to hold my bladder any more to get the line… it pops right up no matter when I test.
My act of faith on Friday was to tell the cryobank that I was pregnant. Today’s act of faith will be to call the Maternal Fetal Medicine folks and arrange for my first appointment with them.
Looking ahead, we’ve got an ultrasound on December 20 with SRM… that’ll be when they hand me off to the obstetrician officially, provided all looks good. And it will.
The other bit I’m struggling with is a kind of “survivor’s guilt”. I’ve been following so many WP blogs about infertility and loss… it’s profound, how humbled I feel in the face of that. I was not just with them, I WAS them. And, I think I STILL AM THEM. I can’t imagine ever letting go of these ten+ years of hurt, they’ve shaped me. I think it assures that I won’t take this gift for granted, I’ll be the very best I can be for all of these sisters. Seeing the line appear, having the doctor confirmation… the past is not erased for me, does not help (at all) those still suffering, I have not magically moved on. I’m still in the trenches with them. But, I owe it to them and this gift to live in the moments that are mine and do right by this miracle.