An interesting turn of events

After writing about my questionable spotting at 8 dpo, I had one more day of on-and-off spotting and then it was gone.

In the interest of full disclosure here, I broke down and tested on Friday after work.  This was two days after the spotting began so I thought maybe, just maybe, there was a chance.  With my last pregnancy, I tested positive two days after my spotting.  Not this time.   It was, as expected (and feared), a BFN.  I was only 9 dpo, so I know it was silly to even try testing.  Except for in the very early months of trying to conceive baby #1, I never test that early.  In fact, most months I don’t bother to test at all.  But somehow I have this huge pile of internet tests in my drawer.  I totally don’t remember ordering that many and am convinced they mixed up my order and sent me extra HPTs instead of OPKs.

Anyway, the weekend was busy and kept me reasonably distracted.  We drove to the farm on Friday night (complete with Littleman getting carsick in the back of my parent’s car…so gross!) and then my aunts and uncles visited us there for a night.  D took the weekend off from doing chores at the farm so we got to spend some nice time together.  We visited a friend’s farm so Littleman could see the cows and sheep.  We stopped at a chip truck for a hot dog.  All in all, it was a fun weekend.  

hot dog

Chowing down!

On Sunday afternoon, I started to get suspicious that my usual pre-period spotting hadn’t started yet.  I was 11 dpo.  I tried to resist the urge to test again, but with that stupid pile of tests just sitting there and it being Father’s Day, I ended up going for it.  I mean, wouldn’t a BFP be a great Father’s Day gift?  Immediately after I dipped the test stick, I started kicking myself for putting myself through the torture of another negative test.  But then, right around the five-minute mark, I saw this:

11 dpo

11 dpo

Do you see it?  I barely did and thought that perhaps I was making things up.  So, rather than showing D (who I knew wouldn’t believe it because it was so faint) I did what any crazy, stressed-out, trying-to-conceive woman would do.  I posted it on for a bunch of crazy, stressed-out, trying-to-conceive strangers to judge.

I decided to keep this possible positive to myself until I had more firm confirmation.  I woke up yesterday morning (12 dpo) and tried again with the internet tests.  Twice (yep, I’m crazy like that).  Still pretty faint and didn’t show up until five minutes or so, but I was pretty sure I could see something:

12 dpo

12 dpo

I decided it was time to bring out the serious equipment, so I hit up the drug store for some (nauseatingly expensive) FRERs and a Clear Blue Digital.   I knew I wouldn’t be able to wait until morning, so I faked it by not drinking or peeing all afternoon.  I snuck into the bathroom as soon as I got home, while D was busy washing some windows.  I took one of the FRERs and got this:

12 dpo

12 dpo

Woohoo, this is real!  Holy shit, this is real.  I told D that I had forgotten to give him one of his Father’s Day presents and handed him the test.  He broke into huge grin and said, “First try?  Really?”  I’m pretty sure he was as shocked as I was.

So here we are.  Am I excited?  Not sure yet.  I want to be.  Am I nervous?  Definitely.  D and I talked a bit about it last night and I think we both feel the same way.  We’re obviously happy and hopeful but we know now that things can go wrong.  I guess you could say we’ve lost our innocence. 

I’ve left a message for Dr. P’s office and we’ll see what he has to say about next steps.  I’m definitely a little shaky and freaking out a bit.  But, for now it seems that I’m pregnant!

Too many weeks

Last night, I lay in bed assessing my attempt at distracting myself during my two week wait.  I did extremely well during the first week, but I’ve been failing miserably during week two.

As I lay there, I wondered how many two week waits I’ve endured.  When I add together all my pregnancy attempts, it turns out that I’m currently in my 23rd TWW.

That’s 46 weeks!!!

In the past four years, I’ve spent 46 weeks wishing, hoping, wondering, googling and stressing.  Holy shit.  That’s a lot of weeks.  Too many weeks.  That’s almost an entire year!

I know that there are people out there who have spent even longer (some much, much longer) in TWW limbo land.  What an unpleasant place to be.

I’m hoping this realization will knock some sense in to me.  Do I really want to waste any more of my life locked inside my head, over-analyzing and stressing myself out?  Or do I want to let things happen as they will and enjoy every moment, no matter what time of the month it is?

I think the answer to that one is pretty clear.

I’m officially restarting my attempt to ignore my TWW.  Bring on the weekend!

Could it be IB?

It appears that yesterday’s post was extremely timely.  This morning, after using the washroom, I had a spot of red mucus on the toilet paper.  It was actually more of a glob (sorry, that sounds gross) and was probably a bit smaller than pea-sized. 

My first reaction was minor panic.  Anything red tends to stress me out.  But then, of course, my mind went right to the very topic I was thinking about yesterday.  Could this be implantation bleeding?  According to Fertility Friend, I’m 8dpo.  And, according to FF’s Pregnancy Monitor (which, I’ve decided I hate, by the way) only “6.7% of pregnancy charts show spotting at 8dpo.  18.2% less than for non pregnant charts.”  Great.  Those are pretty crappy odds.

Up until now, I had been doing really will with my vow not to obsess about how I’m feeling or google random symptoms this month.  But this current development has driven me right back to the internet.  Damn, I have no willpower.

4dpo: avoiding going crazy

So, Fertility Friend decided I’ve ovulated and tells me that I’m now 4dpo.  I don’t totally agree with her – I think I’m 3dpo – but, either way, it looks like I’m into the dreaded two week wait.

This time, I’ve told myself that I’m not going to spend as much time fretting over possible signs and symptoms.  I’ve promised myself that I won’t lurk on the TTC message boards or google every little strange feeling I have.  I know that doing that stuff is bad for my mental health.  I don’t have amazing self-control but I will try my best to keep busy and distract myself with other things…

Like reading blogs!  I love reading other people’s stories.  Some people are going through tough times and I feel like I can totally relate.  Even though I wouldn’t wish a miscarriage on my worst enemy, it’s reassuring to know that there are other people out there who know what I’ve been dealing with.  I’m so thankful to those people who have reached out and offered words of encouragement and advice.

And then there are the good news stories!  I feel so happy to read about people who are pregnant now after struggling with trying to conceive or dealing with a loss.  Or the people who are so strong and living through whatever life has thrown at them.  It gives me hope.

Anyway, I’m not sure how successful I will be with my moratorium on googling, but I’ll do what I can.  Right now, it’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon , so I think I’ll leave all my internet-connected devices inside and sit on the back deck to read my book while Littleman naps.