I was all set to write a post about how I’ve been more quiet than usual, because again I am waiting. Always waiting. And after last month’s nuttiness, I made a personal pledge to try not to test until 10 days past ovulation (so, 4 days before I might miss a period), which is today, and I didn’t want everyone else to be asking me, daily, any news? Any news? And every day, no news. Every day, a negative test.
I was all set to write that post and then yesterday afternoon, in a moment of weakness, I took a test.
And that test was positive.
It was the faintest, least positive positive test in the history of positive tests, but it was there, a pink shadow of a line, and I called Dan up in tears and told him he needed to come home right now and tell me if I was crazy or if he could see it too. I spent the 15 minutes it took him to get here pacing around the house muttering “ohmigodimpregnantohmigodisthatreallyalineohmigodohmigodohmigodisthatpossiblyalineohmigod,” and then he got home, and he saw the line too. I took two more tests, same results.
I am shocked. More shocked that I got a positive test so, ridiculously, early than that I am pregnant. I can scarcely bring myself to believe it, because I want it to be true so badly and I will be crushed if in two days, it’s not positive anymore. That can happen. Anything can happen. But today, I am pregnant. Tomorrow, I’m hoping for more of the same. Only 34 weeks, and 4 days to go.
After the third test with the same results, Dan believed it too. Today was Lovenox: Day 1, all over again. I can feel already how different my attitude is, with this new perspective. I don’t want to do the shots. I, in fact, hate the shots. They are painful and they creep me out and they put a big crimp in my morning routine. But this time around, I really don’t mind all that much. Give me 242 more days just like this one. Please.
This post is from Wednesday, 10/10. I’m scheduling it to post on Saturday because I really want to tell my dad in person since we’re going to see him this weekend! I’m just going to keep updating it until Saturday when it posts.
Today is Thursday, two days after the first test, and the test this morning is definitely positive. I’m due on my birthday, of all days. Of course even if every single thing goes wonderfully, I’ll never get to my due date since I now very definitely have a mandatory 38 week induction if I make it that far, but it’s a nice due date, anyway.
Ever since we lost Amy, I’ve heard from everyone – doctors, therapists, well-meaning friends – to remember that getting pregnant again isn’t going to “fix everything.” And it doesn’t. Being pregnant again doesn’t fix everything – in fact, it fixes nothing at all – but, honestly? It sure does help. I will be sad about Amy until the end of my days, but being pregnant again, the hope and possibility of having a living child again? It helps. It definitely helps.