Well...sort of...

I remember when I first saw the episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte receives a phone call from her doctor and then relays the message to Harry that their IVF cycle failed. I thought to myself, that's not how you find out if you're pregnant! I couldn't understand why Charlotte wouldn't just take a home pregnancy test like any other woman. Now I know that someone on the SATC writing staff must have had personal experience with infertility.

Fortunately, both Husband and I were pretty busy in the final days leading up to test day. It wasn't until we were both sleepless during the wee hours of Thursday morning that the nerves set in. I felt haunted by a ominous premonition that my test would be negative. I decided against swimming that morning, as I wasn't too keen to have any more time alone with my thoughts. Conveniently, I was already scheduled to be out of the office that day, as I had to teach another contraceptive class in the South Bay, which meant another two hour drive -each way.

This time, the class started a little later, so I was able to make it to the lab and didn't have to draw my own blood again. The drawback was that I would still be teaching around the time my results would be ready. Husband would be umpiring a hockey match at that time. I decided that I wouldn't want to be alone when I learned the results, and I wouldn't want to hear them at a time when I couldn't call him right away. I wanted us to be together when we received the news. Even if it meant prolonging the wait. I emailed my RE's office explaining that I wouldn't have access to my phone all afternoon and I requested that someone leave a detailed message with my results. I received a response from my RE himself noting "will do!" I chuckled to myself at his use of an exclamation point as I figured it was added for assurance that I wouldn't call him on his personal phone again.

I finished my class and checked my phone. Missed call and voicemail message. I went from anxiously waiting by the phone to ignoring it. I trudged through heavy traffic for the next two and a half hours with the message with my results right by my side. My mind wavered between preparing for disappointment if the beta were negative and panicking about the potential for twins if it were positive. Finally, three hours after Misery called, Husband and I listened to her message. "Hi Jane, we received your HCG results and it's 36... So you are pregnant. We'll need to repeat it on Friday, so let us know where we need to fax your lab slip."

My first thought: that seems a bit low. This could be a chemical pregnancy. Why are they having me repeat it in 24 and not 48 hours later? Husband and I shared a collective sigh of relief and hugged each other before we left to grab some dinner. I thought about other couples who go out to celebrate after discovering they're expecting. They probably gush about decorating the nursery or propose possible baby names. We were looking up expectations for HCG levels on our phones. This is what infertility and pregnancy loss does to you. I collected data from my pregnant bloggers and compared their values to when they tested. Mine was much lower, but it seems that my RE had me test a bit earlier at 12 days post retrieval (9dp3dt).

I decided that I could come to terms if this were to be a chemical pregnancy. It would feel a little more encouraging than a total BFN; and if this is to be a non-viable pregnancy, I would prefer to have it resolve as soon as possible. My second beta came back at 65. It was drawn nearly 27 hours after my first (performed on a Friday to avoid the weekend). If we were to project a doubling rate in 48 hours (which would bring it to 72) then it should have been around 54 after 24 hours. Seemingly within range. Then again, I had perfect doubling with my first pregnancy. It's reassuring, but at the same time doesn't really mean anything. Yet, this is where we are right now. I'm pregnant. Well...sort of...