Been very excited to finally write that here.  Except that instead of feeling that pregnancy joy, I’m feeling that anxiety that comes with some HCG levels that aren’t going my way.

So we found out last Monday that we were pregnant, and not only that, my HCG levels were really high. We were truly elated for those first 2 days. That little secret smile that I just couldn’t contain. We shared our news with all our friends and family who have been on this journey with us. We made so many people happy and heard so many tears of joy being shed at our expense. It was quite overwhelming and felt so deservedly good. It has been quite the journey to get here.

The 2ww was hard, but I took care of myself. I did my restorative yoga every night & kept my 2nd chakra candle lit whenever I was in the apt. I ate well, I rested and I imagined those 3 perfect embryos (yes, we had 3 perfect ones!) sticking (or at least 1-2 sticking!) We allowed all of our friends to share in the process and to send us sticky implantation vibes as much as possible. And it worked! It really worked.

So I went back on Wed for my 2nd beta and unfortunately, my levels didn’t go up as much as they wanted them too. They thought there was a possibility that there were multiples and we lost one. Made complete sense to us, so we felt ok about this. They wanted me back again on Fri. Problem was, we had a 7am flight out to Florida to visit my parents and to do a blood test, I’d have to change the flight to that evening. It didn’t make sense to us to lose a whole day of 85 degree sunny Florida weather to find out that maybe it was bad news, or possibly it went up. Either answer wouldn’t change a thing, so we decided not to take the test and to just go and relax and not think about it (yeah right).

Florida was awesome. We had a fabulous 4 days with my parents, eating, beaching, relaxing, reading- everything you do on vacation. It was perfect. The weather was perfect which never happens to us. Every friend of theirs congratulated us, but I thanked them with the statement “I’m cautiously happy.” It was hard to be truly happy, with the not knowing, and expecting a toilet full of blood at any given moment.

So early Tues morning (after getting in at 4am) I ran back up to Hartford to do another blood test- the 45 min drive each way has been one of the hardest parts of this cycle like I knew it would be. They called me in the early afternoon to tell me the levels still didn’t go up as much as they’d like and they need to see me for an ultrasound. Yikes. All I wanted to do was take a nap after not having really slept the night before. But get back in my car is what I did, and I drove back up to Hartford, shaking and attempting deep breaths the whole way there.

The good news was that there was nothing they could see in my tubes- if there was, it could have been an ectopic pregnancy which is really bad. They think they may have seen the sac in my uterus, but still too early to tell. I was at 5w2d which is super early.

So now, I just have to wait and see how it goes. I go in again on Tues for another beta and ultrasound. I guess that all our disappointments these last few years have added up and I really can’t be optimistic about this. I am protecting myself from the pain I will inevitably feel when this pregnancy turns to loss. It’s so hard for me to stay hopeful and positive. How can I? I usually am. Chris is the hopeful & positive one right now. He has been amazing for me. I really don’t have any left in me and I am using everyone’s positive energy to get through this.

Everyone knows someone who knows someone who had a slow rise in their HCG levels who then went on to have a baby. But in my heart of hearts, I don’t think that’s going to be me. I want it to be me, but that hasn’t been me in years. I am getting myself so prepared for what I think is the inevitable loss, that I almost forget that I am pregnant right now.

I have yet to turn that switch on in my brain that accepts that I’m actually pregnant. The side affects that started during the 2ww b/c of the progesterone injections are still around, which doesn’t help b/c I don’t feel like they are real. Even if they are. I pray every morning to wake up nauseous. Then I would know that my levels are rising.

It feels good to write this out, to share this tumultuous beginning to what could be the child we have been dreaming of all these years, or just another loss on this endless path.

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