These were, without a doubt, the slowest moving weeks of our lives. So many worries, hopes and dreams, all wrapped up in one little question: Are we pregnant?
If only the answer was a simple yes or no, like it is for those lucky fertile people. But those of us in the infertility club know that there is so much more to the story.
Our doctor ordered test date was June 5th, 2014. Our doctor advised that we wait a full twelve days following the 5 day embryo transfer to test. That way our HcG trigger shot is sure to have worked itself outof my system (which can cause a false positive). It also allows enough time following implantation to ensure an accurate test result.
Did I make it to the 5th without testing? Haha. Nope.
We decided that we would test early, only if I promised that I wouldn’t let a negative test ruin my spirit. I knew that people often got positives as early as 5 days past a 5 day transfer, but I didn’t want to test during the work week so we waited until 7 days past 5 day transfer, a Saturday.
Test #1- 7dp5dt May 31st, 2014
Randall was working a graveyard shift, and I knew he wouldn’t be home until close to 9 am. I woke up at 4:30 in the morning with my heart pounding. My stack of pregnancy tests I’d picked up at Target were taunting me, and I knew I might as well pee on a stick because I wasn’t going to get any more sleep.
I went in the bathroom took the test. I laid it on the counter, and placed the box on top so I couldn’t see it process. I set the timer on my cellphone and went back to the bedroom.
The timer goes off. Holy crap that was a quick 3 minutes.
I walk back into the bathroom, immediately wishing I’d waited to test. Fear set in and uncontrollable shaking took over. I flipped the box over, looked at the test window, and…one line. Not pregnant. Now I feel like I’m going to vomit. I know that it’s still early, but for the first time, it occurs to me: This might not work. Then what? We had no game plan for it it didn’t work. We didn’t even want to consider that as a reality.
Defeated, I took my test and went and laid in bed. I curled up with my little dog, Layla, and immediately took to my phone to Google “negative at 7dp5dt”, “positive at 8dp5dt”, and pretty much anything else I could think of to give me some hope. I kind of got lost in the world of online forums, and before I knew it 15-20 minutes had passed. I decided I’d better try to get a little more sleep so I could at least have a productive Saturday. When I reached over to turn off my lamp, I glanced at the test resting on my nightstand.
And I saw the faintest, hold-it-up-under-the-light-and-squint second line.
And I was more confused than ever. Was it a true line? Are my HcG levels just so low that it took the line longer than 3 minutes to show up? Or is it an evaporation line, that only showed up outside of the valid testing window?
So, back to square one. Not pregnant, not not pregnant. Guess I should have waited.
So I did. 3 whole hours. I had to know, was it a fluke? How long did it take for that second line to show up? At 8am, I took another test. I didn’t drink much fluid, because I needed as concentrated of urine as possible. took the test, and this time I sat. And watched. And watched. And the line really didn’t show up until after the 10 minute window. The box explicitly says DO NOT READ TEST AFTER 10 MINUTES.
Whatever, box. I’ve never had a line before and I’ll take it, late or never.
There was, without a doubt, a second line. Surprisingly, more defined than the earlier one.
For now, hope is restored.
When Randall came home, I rushed him into the bedroom. He knew I was testing, so we didn’t really get the opportunity for some dramatic surprise. But he picked up the test and got the biggest grin on his face, and gave me a long hug. That meant so much to me, not only because it meant I wasn’t insane and he actually saw the second line, but it made the moment so much more real. We might actually be pregnant.