Note: This post was actually intended to be done for 2dpt, but then we flew home and life started back up and now it’s day 7!
Another note: 7dp5dt is infertile speak for 7 days past a 5-day transfer, or, a week since I transferred my 5-day blast embryo.
Bed rest. What can I say? Am I slowly going crazy? A little. Luckily, I had some work I needed to get done and Chris worked all day yesterday and this morning so I’ve busied myself with writing two articles, doing edits for two articles I’m working on for a site I just started writing for, watching endless Food Network and HGTV, and Chris and I even binged on Naked and Afraid last night.
I’m definitely happy to be in this hotel for my bed rest, but you guys, I’m so ready to come home. I’m a bit sick of fast food, though I’ve some delicious stuff like this dinner from Wing Stop and Papa Johns ordered in.
The day after transfer, I felt some tiny twinges really low down on my left side which my other crazy infertiles verify is a great sign of implantation. No cramping yet, but I know it’s still early and can really mean nothing. I’m already sounding psycho. This two week wait may very well kill me.
Anyway, I also just want to get home and serve Gully some fruits and vegetables and healthy fats like avocado instead of eating my body weight in fries and cheese sauce. As good as that is.
I miss Olivia. Terribly. I’m so glad that she’s been doing well (maybe there’s something my mom’s not telling me) and every time we’ve Skyped, she’s happy and jabbery (minus the day she had the stomach bug—I owe my mom big time) and doesn’t seem upset that we’re not there. My mom’s been giving her little gifts every day of fun activities and is keeping her distracted. But still. I miss her. The longest I’ve been away from her was a night and almost two days and this feels like an eternity at eight. So it’s been good to distract myself.
I started having period cramps. Chris and I took off to The Galleria for some shopping and walking around. We ate Shake Shack for the first time and it was heavenly.
And then later that evening for dinner, we went to a restaurant called Liberty Taco. Home of the best queso and chips ever. Ever.
We flew home! The flight, while physically rough—seriously, it was probably the worse turbulence I’ve ever experienced—the entire process was pretty smooth. I declined the body scan so I got the full pat down, and that was fun, but everything was on time and there was no rushing.
Olivia was so excited to see us. I almost cried while I hugged her but I didn’t want to freak her out. Seriously, it was so good to see her. She’s grown up so much in a week. Her language has expanded.
I didn’t have a lot symptom-wise except for some mild cramps and feeling exhausted. I stupidly took a pregnancy test and it was negative, but of course I was caught up in the Internet getting their positive tests on day 2 or 3 and when I didn’t, I actually was disappointed. Disappointed. I’m such a psycho.
That caused me to go down a rabbit hole of Googling and looking at forums and you guys. It’s a blast from the infertile past and it f*cking sucks.
I decided to test this morning again.
Nothing. Well, maybe something. I feel like it squint and cross my eyes and chant I can see something. To the untrained eye, it looks negative, but to psycho infertiles, there’s a shadow of a line there. I was exhausted again today. Which is probably due to the progesterone more than baby, but hey. I was also having some weird pulling stuff that I know I felt with both Olivia and my twins for the first donor cycle. I remember the IVFs that didn’t work. How quiet my body felt. This is not one of those times.
I decided to take my third and final FRER and take the test in the morning. Because 1) I’m stupid and 2) it was when I got my first positive with Olivia. On a cheapie test no less. Why do I insist on history repeating itself? Because I’m stupid, you guys. It was pretty stark white. So of course then I got even more obsessive. I’m still feeling those little pulls and pains low down, mostly on my left side, but it doesn’t discriminate. I also found out that my progesterone levels from yesterday were half the level they should be. It was 21.8 and my clinic wants it between 40-50.
I’m not going to lie. It freaked me out. Also, I’m so grateful that my doctor started implementing this early testing because this could very well mean the difference between a pregnancy and a miscarriage. I’m going back Thursday to retest and in the meantime, I started oral progesterone twice a day, which brings my total med count for this cycle up to ten.
And now here we are. I took another test (third pee of the day, so it wasn’t the best opportunity) and this time, I saw something of a line a little more clearly. Gully’s still there. Something is still there. I know it. And today when I stretched back, I had a sharp pain low down in the usual spot—so sharp it made me fold into a ball. Best thing ever. Otherwise, I’ve felt that pain off and on today.
It’s not that I forgot about how hard this two week wait was, but I definitely underestimated it. Now I’m trying to get up the nerve to take another test tonight. My testing has always been stronger in the evening. Ugh. We’ll see what I end up doing.
I’m slowly going crazy over this, you guys.