Coming Up Positive: The Story of My (finally) Positive Pregnancy Test

You know that age old saying, that when you wait for something for so long and it finally arrives, you'll have a total brain meltdown and won't be able to function for a bit?

No? No one's heard that one? Probably because it only exists for weirdos like me.

I've waited four years to write this post. Four agonizing, emotional, stressful, infuriating years. I imagined in my head how the whole thing would go. I imagined that the road ending in a positive pregnancy test would be all rainbows and unicorns. Hubs and I would find out together, side by side, hands tightly clasped together. The words "you're pregnant" would come through the phone, sending us into a celebration that could only be described as a mix between joyous and beautiful, psychotic and sort of scary. And then I would hop onto my beloved blog and share my story in an endless stream of thought provoking and poignant poetry that would make even the most doubtful of infertile's alive with hope.

It totally didn't happen that way.

Here's what happened:

We had our 5 day transfer on January 6, 2015. It went by the book. All was well, and I totally made it through like a champ. Okay, that's not true. I actually cried a lot because I was completely freaking out that it wouldn't work. But then the doctor gave me this amazing thing called Valium and I got all sorts of okay. 

Anyhoos, it all went great. We took pictures of the embryo hatching (which I will save for just us because...I don't know, it feels weird to post it). We left shortly after and went straight back to our hotel, proceeding to live out the next two ordered days of bed rest by watching two straight seasons of Game of Thrones.

(If this baby comes out with a weirdo English accent and a sword, we know who to blame.)

During the bed rest, I didn't feel any different. I thought I might feel some tugging or something but no...not a thing. Subsequently, after we returned home, I also felt nothing (remember this post?) and started to worry that it didn't work.

And I mean, I really worried. I just knew it didn't take.

I couldn't concentrate at work. I couldn't sleep. One reason I was so sure was because I KNOW MY BODY, DAMMIT. And I felt no different than any other time before. In fact, I was so sure of our imminent IVF failure that I brazenly told Hubs that if the result turned out to be positive, I would declare that from that day forth, I would leave all decisions concerning my own health to be decided by him and him alone because I was a cotton headed ninny-muggins.

He accepted the terms really quickly.

So, despite all my lovely Twitter friends and blog buddies assuring me that all would be well, I continued to be a Debbie Downer. The Thursday morning of the blood test arrived and I headed to the doc. As the nurse took my blood she said, "Today's the big day, eh? I hope I see you here in a few more days to test your HCG levels again!" I wanted to take the blood draw needle and shove it in her eye.

I left the doc's office still feeling dejected and pissed off. The nurse would send my results to my doc in Colorado, and then Colorado would be calling me sometime between 1:00 and 5:00 with my surely negative results. Whatevs.

Then something happened. At around 1:15, I got a weird twinge in my gut that I'd never felt before. Also, I had a spell of tiredness that had me considering pulling into a Wal-Mart parking lot to take a quick nap. What was this??? I'd heard that these could be early signs of pregnancy. But couldn't they also be PMS? Surely they were PMS, because I wasn't pregnant. I knew deep down in the catacombs of my vagina that no baby was being made in my womb. 

But a teeny, tiny ray of hope began to break through my gloomy outlook. Maybe the blood results had a small change of being positive after all.

The rest of the day passed and soon it was 4:45. Hubs and I were at my stepdaughter's basketball game when I heard the special ring of Colorado on my phone. This was it. We were about to find out. Hubs and I ran out to the lobby of the middle school gym to take the call.

Bad reception.

The nurse said something I couldn't understand. I ran out into the parking lot and, out of breath, asked her to repeat herself.

"...so sorry....so we'll need to...as soon as possible."

Feckety feck feck feck. I knew it. Negative. I asked her to please repeat the last part so I could know what to do next.

"I'm so sorry, Kim, but we still don't have the results from your local doctor yet. So we'll need to get the results faxed over from them as soon as possible. It's almost 5:00 your time, so if you can get them sent in the next 15 minutes, that'd be great."

A-ha! I was down, but not out. I speed dialed my local doc and got no answer. They tend not to check their voicemail after 4:30, so I knew I was in for a long night of waiting. Awesome.

That night crawled by. Hubs said no news was good news at this point, while I proceeded to make up a load of insane-crazy scenarios as to why the results hadn't arrived in Colorado. I'll spare you the crazy for another day.

It was a sleepless night.

The following morning, Hubs kissed me goodbye as he left for work. He reminded me to a) think positive and b) remember to conference him into the phone call when Colorado called with the results so we could hear together. That way, if the test was negative, we had each other to get through it.

I won't lie, I really thought about going to my bathroom vanity and pulling out the last pregnancy test I had and pee on it before anyone called. But I restrained myself.

At around 8:15, I figured it was safe to take a shower. It was still 7:15 in Colorado, and the clinic wasn't open yet for them to call. I hopped into the shower and got all shampooey, trying to wash the negative vibes away. And then the phone rang. 

I didn't even rinse the shampoo out of my hair. I just turned off the water, got out of the shower and grabbed my phone, water and suds dripping off of my completely nekkid body. I looked at the caller ID. It was my local clinic, where I had the blood draw. WTF? Why were they calling? I decided it must be to tell me they had just faxed the results over to Colorado.

"Hello?" I said, a stream of shampoo sliding into my mouth. Mmmm. Soapy.

"Hi, Kim, this is Mel over at the clinic and I'm just calling to tell you that your positive test has been sent over to your Colorado clinic. Your HCG levels were 225 and look great and..."

I have no real recollection of idea what she was even saying. I couldn't think. I couldn't process. Did she say positive?

"Wait, I...uh," I stammered, gripping the phone with a Kung Fu grip so I wouldn't dare drop it.  "I just, uh,...it sounded like you said my test was positive. Is that...I mean, did I hear you right?"

"Yes!" Mel said joyously, completely unaware she'd just changed my life with one word. "Congratulations! Your Colorado doctor will likely want to order you another blood test on Monday to make sure the levels are doubling, so we'll wait to hear from them. So we'll talk soon! Congrats again. Bye bye!"

I remember as I heard the line go dead, I raised my eyes to see myself standing there in my bathroom, soaking wet and naked as the day I was born. I took a deep breath and said aloud the words that were streaming across my brain like a sports ticker. "I'm pregnant." At that moment, all the energy left my body and I shriveled into a ball on the floor. Huge, gulping sobs of relief and emotion and disbelief came pouring out of me in a way I can't quite describe, even now. I have to think I went quite insane for a moment because I was so happy and yet sad and yet scared and confused. My body wasn't really sure what to do with itself. 

I had done it. I had endured painful tests, inquisitive friends, needle after needle, medication after medication, negative pregnancy tests, low bank accounts, low estrogen counts, high estrogen counts, high follicle counts, potential OHHS, delays, more delays, airplane flights, bad hotel food, arguments, make-ups, deaths in the family, births in the family...and it all led to here. For me and Hubs, our time was no longer "someday", out there in nowhere land. It was finally here.

Moments later, my hands trembling, I called Hubs at work. When I heard his voice, I could barely even speak. Later he would tell me he thought the news was bad because I was crying so hard. Ultimately he heard through my incoherent blubber that we were pregnant and just said softly, "I knew it, babe."  Yes, we were both disappointed that we weren't able to hear the call together as we'd planned, but infertility has done a great job of reminding us what happens when you attempt to plan any part of life.

After I finished my shower, the jaded part of me was still in a state of disbelief, and I decided a home pregnancy test was the only way to be sure I hadn't just dreamed this whole phone/shower scenario. I drank about a gallon of water and waited until I was sure I had to pee. I went to my bathroom vanity and dug through the maze of tampons and panty liners, looking for the one pregnancy test I knew I had left. Where the hell was it? I had it RIGHT HERE. And then I remembered. I actually didn't have any left. I used the last one on purpose last month so I wouldn't be tempted to test after the transfer.

Mother eff.

I hopped in my car with water dripping down my back and drove to the grocery store. I bought two pregnancy tests and some dog food (I can't neglect my current babies, right?) and headed home as fast as I could. The test took less than 30 seconds to display the result.

                                                     

   Clear Blue don't lie, honey.

So there it is, bloggies. In living color. I am pregnant. After four years of stopping and starting, giving up and and then gearing up, crying hard and then crying harder, it has all come to this. On or around September 24th, I will (God/Buddah/Allah/Tom Cruise willing) become a mother.

I realize how lucky I am. There are so many infertile's in this world that are on their 3rd, 4th, maybe even 5th IVF cycle. There are women who have had multiple miscarriages or invasive and painful surgeries to even have the hope that they can carry a child. There are those who won't ever have the financial ability to even attempt infertility treatments. I am a very fortunate gal and I am thankful all the way to my friends and family for their support in getting me to this point.

For now, I am happier than I have ever been, and I think I have to let that soak in. Relish it. As I tell my friends, I am happy with a small helping of cautiousness on the side. I know this is just the beginning of a very long journey. It could all end tomorrow. After all, I've never been pregnant before, and statistically, miscarriage is always a possibility. But if the two week wait taught me anything, it taught me that when it comes to this pregnancy stuff...I really don't know jack.

And yes, Hubs was quick to remind me that he gets to make all medical decisions for me going forward and I am, indeed, the most cottonest of the cotton headed ninny-muggins. 

And he'll never let me forget it, either.

XOXO,