Yesterday was beta day. I didn’t even bother taking the day off of work because I was prepared for the outcome. I basically expected this to fail, again. After all, it was an unlikely FET. The fall seems a little less painful when you set your expectations so low. In fact, in the days leading up to beta day I really wasn’t even anxious. My husband was a nervous wreck, but he had high hopes. I’d just smile kindly at him and think to myself, “you poor, sweet fool.”
So I decided to go first thing in the morning for the blood draw, then do my PIO shot, and only after I got all of that out of the way, then I planned on taking a home pregnancy test (hpt). Women who take hpt’s and get negatives, but still have to go through all the motions until the confirmation beta must be made of steel. I just can’t imagine going for a blood draw and taking meds if I already knew it was a bust. Still, by doing the hpt after all that, I at least save myself the dreaded all day wait for the nurse to call to deliver the results. Plus, as I learned from my last cycle, this method allows me to get the news on my own terms rather than from an awkward nurse who isn’t quite sure how to break it to me. I’ve had enough of those awkward nurse calls, thank you very much.
It was a long 3 minutes waiting for that hpt. Seriously, how can 3 minutes take that long?! After waiting in another room for the seconds to crawl by like a dying snail in the sun, I went in to see the test. I couldn’t believe my eyes. For the first time ever, there were 2 lines. And they were nice dark lines. OMG!
My hands were shaking so bad as I picked up the test and tried to use my phone to tell my husband. I sent pictures of the miracle test to the people who are close to us that have been supporting us all along. These are the few people I would tell regardless of the outcome. I prefaced each text with, “don’t get to excited yet, but…”. Because I wanted people to stay calm and rational about this. No one did, of course, but I guess really I’m just trying to keep myself calm.
I waited 4.5 hours for the nurse to call with my beta results. It seemed like a whole day at least. And I finally got good news. My HCG was 365. A solid number. I had a moment of relief.
To my confusion, my clinic recently changed the way they do betas, so they weren’t planning on doing a second beta until a week from now. Honestly, I don’t get that since the doubling time is more important than one number. But I guess it’s because they are doing them later now, rather than earlier (mine was 12 days past a 5 day transfer, which is like 17 days past ovulation), so if you have a good HCG level at this point they are less worried about it, I guess. I’m not less worried though, so I asked the nurse for a sooner beta. She agreed and said I could do another on Friday, which is 4 days later. I’m sure I’ll hate myself for asking for this come Friday morning, but hopefully by the afternoon I’ll have a little more reassurance.
So here I sit, pregnant. I’m still in shock. The beautiful hpt is still sitting on my desk a day later. I don’t know what to do with it, but I can’t bring myself to throw it away. It was very hard won. It’s like gold. Maybe I’ll take it for a walk later or pet it. I never had one of these with my first IVF pregnancy because I was so traumatized by years of negative tests that I was simply too scared to take a hpt, even after my positive beta.
Despite the shock though, somewhere inside of me is a calm. It’s the same underlying calmness that I felt during my pregnancy with my first IVF baby 4 years ago. I had that calm despite 2 rather large bleeds that were reminiscent of crime scenes due to a nasty subchorionic hematoma early on in that pregnancy. It’s a calm that says, “everything is going to be okay,” despite the statistics that might suggest otherwise. If I let my analytical mind begin to stir, I start mulling over miscarriage statistics for my age, and panic starts to pound in my chest. So I’ve decided to simply be irrational and not think at all during these next weeks. Is that possible?
One thing I do know for a fact is that worrying will not change the outcome, it will only make me miserable in the process. So I’m making the conscious decision to trust that calm wave that’s flowing through me right now. Maybe it’s my intuition telling me that everything really will work out. Maybe it’s hope sneaking in. Maybe it’s completely irrational. Whatever it is, I’m going to go with it. Otherwise I’m not sure how I’d survive the next 4 days.
Of course, this may be easier said then done. Must. Stop. Thinking.