New readers to my blog have stumbled upon Return to Go at a sad time. I recently found out I was pregnant. Thirteen days ago at 13 DPO, my test turned positive, if ever so faintly. Positive again at 14 DPO, and a little darker. In honor of the pregnancy, I called my RE and scheduled a beta for that day at 15 DPO. The beta was very low at 33, and my heart broke a little bit. Despite the late implantation and the low betas, my numbers continued to rise to 66, 140, and 410 at 17 DPO, 20 DPO, and 24 DPO. This was a doubling time of 48, 66, and 62 hours, respectively. Just this past Saturday, or 25 DPO, I started to spot.
Today brings us to Monday. Twenty-seven days past ovulation and at five weeks five days, my pregnancy test this morning was ridiculously light. Markedly lighter than any test that I have taken in days, if not weeks. I don’t need an ultrasound or a blood test to reveal that this pregnancy isn’t viable. My body has sent me some clear messages. This, in and of itself, is a relief. My first loss was a missed miscarriage at 8 weeks 6 days, and I was shocked at my body’s betrayal. How could it not have told me things weren’t going well? Things are much clearer this time.
Some may say that the cheap internet tests are not reliable. Some may say that 1 out of 3 women spot in pregnancy. It isn’t that uncommon. Some may say that it isn’t over until it is over. But my instincts tell me differently. I would love to be wrong. I would love to be wildly, pessimistically, wrong. My partner and I can laugh about how wrong I was all the way to 40 weeks. We can tell this child about how we doubted it’s perseverance and strength. We can enroll them in martial arts and boxing classes because they were such a fighter en utero. I would love to be wrong, but I don’t think I am.
I’m waiting until 8 am PST to call my doctor. I should know by the end of the day.
I wasn’t totally honest in yesterday’s post. What I failed to tell you was that I had a swipe of faint, pink spotting on Saturday afternoon. One swipe of the toilet paper, and, poof, it was gone. It left no other trace of its existence. My overeager imagination immediately jumped to implantation spotting.
Yesterday, a good friend spotted the spotting on my chart and mentioned it in the comments. I don’t know much about implantation so I googled it. I wish I hadn’t. Did you know that eggs that implant after 12 DPO only have an 18% chance of survival? Or, put another way, the miscarriage rate with implantation at 9 DPO is 13%, 26% at 10 DPO, 52% at 11 DPO, and 82% at 12 DPO.
As I’ve mentioned before, the odds are not in my favor.
Today’s test is a positive.* There are no doubts. It is unquestionably darker than yesterday. Right now, I am pregnant. As I see it, I have an 18% chance of success with this pregnancy. The odds have never looked favorably on me. Right now, my temperature pattern matches my nonpregnancy charts. The tell-tale signs that I so clearly experienced during my last pregnancy aren’t there. Not yet anyway.
I feel a bit like I’m walking a tight rope. I’m waiting to take action after I’m late, and probably several days late. I haven’t called my RE. And, I haven’t told Big Guy. He won’t be home until Friday. I will tell him either way at that time. (But, I did schedule movers for Saturday. I’m not lifting furniture if I’m pregnant. And that felt as if it required action, stat!)
We will see what happens tomorrow. From here on out it is a waiting game.
* This morning’s test wasn’t technically with FMU. I woke up last night at 3 am and had to use the bathroom. The urine I used for the test this morning was from a 4.5 hour stretch, 3 am – 7:30 am.
I ovulated. Based upon the pain on my right side, I would say that it was around 9 pm last night. My temperature spiked nicely this morning shooting up and into my typical post-O zone. Some might say the egg has hatched.
Really, I just wanted an excuse to include a photo my my adorable niece holding a itty-bitty, tiny turkey baby. She loves the turkey babies. This adorable kid is the same one that gives the Stink Eye at will. Watch out world.
As of today I am officially in Day One of the 2ww. This is my first “real” 2ww since I started blogging, so I should prepare you. After studying hundreds, if not thousands, of charts on Fertility Friend, I have decided that testing early and often is the best course of action. False negatives only happen every once and a while, so pee away! I like to start around 9 or 10 DPO.
Speaking of peeing away, I am going to test out the trigger. (Really this means that I will be testing everyday until I get my period.) My test this morning? Uber-positive. Man, it really does bring a jolt even when you know it isn’t real. As for that hCG, well the site of the injection is ridiculously painful. As in painful to the touch, painful to move, just plain painful. It is also swollen, hot and red. Thank goodness I picked up the alcohol wipes or I would be freaking out about infection right now.
I’m dutifully eating my pineapple core and thinking positive thoughts. Implant baby egg! Implant!