undercover embryo

We did it. Once again, we are pregnant. We are expecting. A baby. There- I said it. But, it's a secret. For that reason, this post, and all subsequent posts until I'm safely ensconced in the second trimester (March 17, 2008) will remain hidden from view. Or maybe sooner. Maybe once we see a fabulous beating heart at our first appointment (February 11, 2008). We'll see. At that yet undetermined time, I'll unleash the beast, and publish each and every neurotic, nervous, excited, and happy pregnancy post for the world to see. Regardless of the fact that I'm writing these in the sly, and that nobody but me will see them for a few months, I need to get things out. And I want this record of this very exciting time. And as I stated in my very first blog post- journaling hurts my hand. This works for me.

Monday, January 7, 2008. I'm only about 10 days past ovulation. For those not part of the crazy trying to conceive world, testing is not suggested until 14 days past ovulation, when your period is due. But at 8 and 9 days past ovulation, I felt a little something. I was hot, to the point that my cheeks were flushed. I'm normally chilly and prone to wearing North Face in less than appropriate seasons (you know, like July in Texas). And one night, I was up multiple times to pee. This was also out of the ordinary. But still, I didn't get my hopes up, not too much anyway. That Monday morning I was headed to spend the day with Jacob and Garrett. Up early anyway, bladder full of pee, I decided to test. As the test developed, I brushed my teeth. Nothing there, just white, just as I expected. But.....wait. Is that? Um....there's something there. I swear there is. It's so light I wouldn't dream of showing J. He'd likely laugh, which would make me mad, which would affect how many teeth he has in the front of his face. No bueno. That evening, I test again. While still faint, it's not invisibly faint, and this time I show J. He sees it. He grins, he hugs, we stare at our embracing reflection in the mirror, and we breathe. We don't say it, but it's palpable......now what?!

I test each morning. I pee on no less than 8 additional tests, each confirm what I hope and pray is true. I'm pregnant. And oddly, I don't feel the sense of sheer terror that I did last time. I'm also not buying every baby book at Borders or planning my Pottery Barn Baby purchases like I did the first time...but I'm happy, I'm excited, and I feel like this is somehow right. My heart feels it, my head feels it, I really believe in this little September baby we created. On Tuesday, I call the nurse, and although she feels it's too early, she agrees to let me come in for bloodwork. The call comes that evening, and my strong demeanor shakes a bit.

HCG 14

Progesterone 18.7

These, dear friends, are disappointing numbers. Curl up on the couch and hide under your blankie numbers. Mainly the HCG, which is expected to be 5-50 at this point. So I'm "normal" but for once I want to be on the high end of normal. However, it's likely that the pregnancy implanted like a DAY ago. It's likely all is okay. My progesterone is fine. Above 10 is good. But that night, as I scour the internet, I see numbers twice and three times my own, both the HCG and progesterone. I freak. I cry. I have a manic meltdown that brings Jonathan to say "honey, you need yoga or therapy. Your choice." In my heart, I feel we (this tiny new life and I) are okay. 72 hours must go by before my next blood draw. They drag. I know, the nurse knows, the entire big internet knows- my numbers MUST double in those 72 hours. I find out online that a level of 100 at 14 days past ovulation is preferred. I tell myself if I can get even close to that, I'll be happy. If my progesterone rises to just 20, I'll be happy. Please, please, por favor. Friday morning, I'm back at the lab. Okay...so I'm the first person in the office, a full 20 minutes before the lab even opens. Eager? Me? You don't say. Then I go home, I pull a blanket to my face, and I lay under it. I don't move. I don't eat. I don't do much but beg my body and God and this wee little embryo to help. I leap from the couch like my ass is on fire each time the phone rings. And finally, at 1:30, the nurse calls.

HCG 151

Progesterone 32

HALLELUJAH! HOT DAMN! SWEET BABY JESUS! Those are some MAJOR rising numbers! An HCG doubling time of every 2-3 days is preferred. My doubling time comes out to .87 days! The nurse is pleased, I am pleased, the world, for today, is good. She tells me to come in again on Monday "for your own peace of mind, really" and transfers me to the front desk to schedule my first (ha) OB appointment around 8 weeks.

I'm excited. Of course there's caution- there always will be for me. But there's real, legitimate reason for celebration here. I feel good, a bit of nauseau, sleepier than usual, yearning to eat healthy and stay strong. Keep this positive frame of mind I'm inexplicably blessed with.

Now, if I can just keep the secret for the next two months. This will NOT be easy. But I'm just wanting to keep this, to enjoy this, to allow this to be all ours for now. Our friends and family will soon enough be able to celebrate with us, and their celebration will be more whole hearted if they know we're farther along, past the points of the last losses.