Here We Go Again... (3w4d)

A faint pink line on one test this morning and the word Pregnant on a digital about an hour ago. It seems I'm pregnant again!



Jay teased me about my obsession with pregnancy tests. Five tests in three days is a bit excessive, especially this early (9, 10 and 11 days past ovulation) and especially for me. It's not really my nature to be so impatient, but I knew this was the month. I just knew. And I wanted reassurance. Faint pink lines are all good and well, but there is no ambiguity about the word Pregnant.



So now we start the process again. Hopefully this time will be our time.

A New Beginning?

Two days... two tests... two very, very (and I do mean very) faint, almost invisible, possibly a trick of the light or my imagination... lines.

Yesterday was 9 days past ovulation and I got impatient and took a test at 6:30 PM even though I knew it was too early to really get a good result. Then I was up early this morning (6:30 AM!) and couldn't go back to sleep until I took another test. This morning's line looked a little more visible, even had a hint of pink to it, but I did a digital test and it rudely said, "Not Pregnant."

So. I'll wait another day. I would say I'll wait two more days, even three, just to be sure. But I know myself. I'll try to wait until tomorrow.

This might be a new beginning for us.

I have hope.

Prenatal Care... Eventually (5w2d)

Dealing with the military healthcare system will be the most trying thing about pregnancy. I have very little experience with being pregnant, but I can still state this with utmost confidence. It took me nearly an hour and three phone calls to schedule my first prenatal appointment. Despite my "advanced maternal age" and some medical history that might make this a high-risk pregnancy, I was told they will not see me, under any circumstances, before my tenth week of pregnancy. If I have any complications, I'm to go to the naval hospital. Period. Go figure.

So, my first prenatal appointment is schedule for September 16. That seems very, very far away, all things considered. I'm not one of "those" women who wants a doctor attached to my side from the moment the two lines appear on the pregnancy test until Junior graduates from high school, but it would be nice to simply have confirmation that I have medical care. Maybe see the embryo on an ultrasound and know it's attached properly. Have someone address my concerns about genetic testing face-to-face instead of giving me some vague (and incorrect) time frame over the phone. Everyone (medical community, included) acts like the fact I'm 41 and pregnant is the equivalent of the sky falling, so why doesn't the medical community think it's necessary to see me before the tenth week?

Ah, right, miscarriage. Why bother seeing me, doing any sort of testing beyond the basic pregnancy test, giving me any kind of reassurance, when the odds that I'll miscarry before week 10 are around 50%, maybe higher. So, I get it-- it's not fiscally responsible to waste resources on women who might miscarry before the end of the first trimester anyway. Of course, there's not a lot they can do for me at this stage. I know that.

But a little peace of mind would go a long way right now.

The Magic Word (3w3d)

This will likely end up on a blog at some point, but right now it’s just a Word document. I took a pregnancy test at 10:30 this evening (well, yesterday evening), expecting it to be negative. I’m only ten days past ovulation, but I thought I’d give it a shot anyway. I just had a feeling… call it intuition or impatience or insomnia. 

First Response: one solid pink line and… one very, very faint pink line. Could it mean I’m pregnant?



I studied those lines for several minutes, convinced I was imagining the second line. I took a couple of pictures, just in case, since Jay is deployed. I need a record of the event, right? I still couldn’t tell. The line got darker over an hour or so, which doesn’t mean anything, I know. The test guidelines are very clear about not attempting to read the test after an hour. I could see something, though. The kit said if there was even a faint line, I was pregnant. But how faint is faint? I knew I couldn’t go to bed and sleep until I took another test. I never really enjoyed chemistry and this was why—inconclusive results.

I had the First Response test lying around from months past, but my ovulation predictor kit came with a free pregnancy test. Thankfully, it was a Clearblue Digital. There was no question this time.  The chemistry experiment was successful.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.



The word looks strange if you stare at it long enough, as I have been for the last thirty minutes. Pregnant. I don’t know when the digital stops showing the result, but it’s still there. Pregnant.

It seems I’m pregnant. I’m 41 and I’m pregnant. After only having two months to try while Jay was home, one of those when I had pneumonia, I didn’t think it would happen until the end of this year. Maybe even next year. Maybe never. But it was a mid-deployment rendezvous in St. Augustine, Florida that got us here.

Pregnant.