One of my first pregnancy signs during pregnancy #1 was frequent urination. I had no idea that the uterus starts to enlarge so quickly. I thought it would take a week or two, not two days. This was also one of my first signs for this pregnancy. The peeing started with a vengeance two days ago at 14 DPO.
This frequent urination thing has been tricky with my POAS obsession. Not last night, but the night before I woke up at both 1 am and 4:45 am to go to the bathroom. This does not make for a great FMU POAS situation. Yesterday I used the 4:45 am urine. The line was the same as CD 14. I was disappointed but didn’t put much stock into it because I am embracing my pregnancy. (You know, because if I say it enough it will be an easy thing to do.)
I then got the beta results yesterday afternoon, and I was devastated. I wasn’t embracing anything. I tried to do so by talking to my blastocyst for a bit, trying to persuade it to stick around. And then I cried bitterly for several hours. Not a reassuring sign for my spirit baby, I’m sure.
I wanted to surprise Big Guy by telling him in a magical fashion, but I couldn’t handle yesterday’s meltdown all alone. The poor guy. Take it from me, calling and hysterically crying is not the best way to tell your partner you are pregnant. His overall reaction? Confusion. “I don’t know if I should be excited or not,” he says. ”Me either,” I replied.
So, when I went to bed last night I made a pledge to sleep soundly and to ignore every and all urges to wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I was going to have great FMU or get a bladder infection trying. I dreamed about water and going to the bathroom all night, but I held out until 5 am. Seven hours of abstinence from the toilet.
The test this morning? Darker.
I’m going to have a baby, dammit.
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.
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?
- Five Man Electrical Band