White Knuckles

 This post contains very delicate information. If you know me in my non-blogosphere life, please don't share the information below. We will share as we feel ready.

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I'm sorry I disappeared. Blogging is a funny thing. I wrote about every intimate detail of this cycle, but when it came to the end of the cycle, I hesitated to put it out there. I've felt guilty about this for a few days. You all have shown me so much support throughout this IVF cycle (and the other cycles that have come before it), so it feels strange not to share what's been going on. Additionally, this is my space. I use the blog to write about whatever feelings or issues I am dealing with. Nothing is a bigger issue for me right now than my efforts to be a mother. So, superstitiousness be damned. Here's what's been happening in the last 9 days.

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This week, I felt shy about posting. Maybe it's because I'm extremely superstitious about "jinxing" during the two week wait. Maybe it's because I was trying so hard to distract myself from how crazy I was acting. Maybe I was too busy.

Nah.

I wasn't posting because I was ashamed. Consider this post a confession.

As some of you know, because of my PCOS, I never get natural periods anymore. Since my miscarriage in August 2010, I have had exactly one natural period. So, as you can imagine, KG and I have had very few actual two week waits in our experience with TTC. We've had a few weird Clomid cycles, a couple of failed IUIs, and one failed IVF before now. In all those cases, either my period came quickly (short luteal phase) or we had to cancel the cycle.

So, I've had a lot of time to forget what a real, long TWW is like. And boy this was a doozey. All the lessons I learned when we miscarried went out this window. I swore then that I would remember that early BFPs and good betas do not mean you end up with a baby, so I wouldn't torture myself in the future with POAS. I would be patient. I would just wait for things to happen in time.

However, a year and a half later, I forgot all of that. I hang my head in shame as I write this. Last week, I became a testing addict once again. I was out of control and spent more money than I care to admit.

No kidding - 15 tests between 7dp5dt and 12dp5dt (Friday).

Even worse, I tested using multiple brands, different times of day, and obsessively photographed them, saved them in a Ziplock bag in my bathroom, arranged them in specific ways to analyze them, blah blah blah.

Seriously, it was behavior that was completely beyond me. Some might shake their head and laugh, but until you have been in this position, you don't know how you'll react. 

The good news: the reason I kept testing and testing is because I got BFPs all week.
The bad news: the darkness of the lines on the tests were highly variable by time of day, and scared the crap out of me. (I must be the only weirdo in the world who had darker FRER's (supposedly the most sensitive test) in the afternoon than with first morning urine. This issue deserves a whole separate post. Lesson learned? Internet cheapie tests are way more accurate for me.)

Although I was tempted to jump on the blog and post every picture of every positive test, something held me back. Despite seeing 2 lines on all of these tests, and seeing the word "Pregnant" on a digital test, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. If I said it publicly, maybe it would all disappear. Maybe I would get my period within hours of sharing. Maybe it would be my fault.

Then, Friday (12dp5dt) was beta day. I held out hope for a number around 100. I always get my blood drawn in the morning, and wait for an afternoon phone call. However, I checked my phone around lunch time, and saw I had a voicemail. I was shocked because it was so early, and my stomach was in knots because I didn't know if it was a good or a bad sign.

It was a good sign. The nurse enthusiastically said that our number was 859!

I sat at my desk, replaying the voicemail over and over to make sure I heard the number right. I even called her back, to ask her to repeat the number. I was so prepared for bad news, that I didn't know how to process good news.

Since the call, I've felt really stunned. Muted. Cautious. It really hasn't sunk in yet. How could something go right? KG is with me on this one. He's happy and optimistic, but we both have an undercurrent of white knuckles. Despite this, we did celebrate with a dinner out Friday night, and talked about the future. Superstitions be damned.

My mom has been emailing, encouraging me to see this as a totally new, separate experience from our first pregnancy. She says we should expect it to be a healthy, uneventful pregnancy, one that deserves to be enjoyed. I know she's right. I know we can't spend every day petrified and expecting the worst to happen. It's just so hard.

As I said to a fellow IFer the other day, "Once you've taken the pill and seen the Matrix, there's no going back."

But, unless something changes, I really am pregnant.

We went back in this morning to make sure my number is doubling. We got 3,247! Ultrasound in 2 weeks...

Please stick little one.