I’m officially pregnant!! I have dreamed about saying those words for so long now, and now, here I am! I have already come so far along in this journey and I’ve always promised myself to document this experience to look back on and share with the future kiddos. But, I’ve held off until the test came back positive. I didn’t want to jinx anything. So let’s rewind six months….
In June of this year, I was in the very beginning of the IVF process. But by the end of the month we had to put those plans on hold. The military moved us to another state which meant moving an entire household across the country, buying a house, moving into said new house, taking a(nother!) bar, and finding a job. Phew! In the midst of all the craziness, I found out that I actually had to re-start the IVF process because of the move. Finally, after getting the necessary referrals and completing a battery of tests, I began my first cycle on October 10, 2014.
I’m not a fan of needles. In fact, the sight of blood makes me feel a bit light headed. To further complicate matters, hubby is the same way. But, he truly stepped up! Every night, he gave me shots. (The regimen started out as one shot a day, eventually became three shots and now he is giving me an intramuscular shot daily!) He can now add “Murse” to his long list of credentials. I thought there would be a moment in time where I would become sick of the shots to the point where I wouldn’t want to do it anymore. I NEVER felt that way. I was overcome with excitement at the potential life we were creating. And in a weird, sick way I enjoyed the shots. A day was never complete without them, I had ritual for getting my shots (the only way I could get the shot was if I stood a very particular way with my eyes covered) and there was something so satisfying (and cathartic?) about crossing off another day on my IVF calendar.
My doctor kept my IVF protocol rather tame because given my age and health he was concerned that I would be susceptible to hyper-stimulation. So, throughout the cycle I didn’t have the extraordinary amount of follicles that you hear other IVF patients produce. And my eggs took a little longer to develop, requiring us to move my retrieval back a day. On retrieval day, the doctor removed 10 follicles. Of the 10 removed 9 were mature, 8 fertilized, 8 made it to day 5 and 4 arrested in development in the blastocyst stage leaving 2 for transfer and 2 to freeze. The two that they transferred were grade A(+) and B embryos (the embryologist that did the grading admitted to me that she should have given the 2nd embie an A as well, but was probably unjustifiably harsh because the other was one of the best she’s ever seen).
After the transfer, we had to do one of the hardest things ever. Wait! They call it the two week wait and its considered one of the most anxious times for a couple trying to conceive. I caved and took an at home pregnancy test early. I thought I saw a very faint line, which is enough to indicate a positive but it wasn’t dark enough for me. Was it wishful thinking on my part? Did one of the embies not stick? I had more questions than answers and I was wrought with worry.
Around this time I became extremely bloated. I already looked 5 months pregnant. Isn’t it supposed to take several months before I show? And nothing was making the bloat go away. Shouldn’t it have subsided by now? I read up on bloat being a pregnancy symptom, but this soon? Something didn’t seem right. I called my doctor and made an appointment. Remember that hyperstimulation thing he was worried I would get? Well, it reared its ugly head. The ultrasound showed huge pockets of water in my abdomen and above my liver. No wonder you look and feel the way you do! The silver lining was that I was likely pregnant. There was only one way to find out for sure, once and for all. Take a blood pregnancy test.
My doctor came back to the room and was completely stunned. Unable to contain his excitement he, in a cute but awkward way, tried to give me a fist pound (bump? what is it called?) and announced that I was pregnant. He was blown away because my hcg levels registered at 8dp5dt 553. 11dp5dt it would rise to 2270. He believes that these numbers are strongly indicative of multiples. We can’t know how many until the ultrasound which is 11 days from now. That feels like an eternity. This is going to be harder than the “2 week wait.” Of course I’ve already researched beta numbers, read every forum out there, even posted on one of them eliciting other ivfers’ thoughts, but to no avail. Nothing will make me stop wondering/worrying/theorizing about how many beings are growing inside me until I can count them myself.
So, am I a mama to be to one, two or three?