I posted this a couple months ago, and it proved to be very cathartic for me. I hit publish and then I was like, 'phew.' I felt relieved after addressing the thing that weighed most heavily on my mind, and free to think and write about other things. And free to get rid of most of my baby stuff. Every time I sold or donated something, I just smiled and wished the new owner well. I liked the thought of all my baby gear having new life.
But then I just continued to wait and hope. I didn't know how to stop. It was pretty frustrating to continue being disappointed every few weeks. But then that would fade and I would again remember how great my life is and how much I like sleep.
I could not quit the thermometer and chart either. It's an ingrained habit by now. The pattern of low temps followed by high temps, then a low temp, then a new cycle. Again and again and again, as reliable as night following day. I began to think that a diagnosis of infertility would be very helpful, and that maybe it was time to see a doctor. If I was told that I could not have babies anymore, I could stop hoping and praying for what was never going to happen.
Then, on a morning that I was supposed to have a decline in temperature and get my period, I got a really high temperature and no period. It was the 13th day of my luteal phase. I thought, 'Hmm. Well, I had a sore throat last night. It could be a low-grade fever. But the sore throat is gone and I feel fine now.' I tried not to read too much into it even though it was significantly higher than my normal luteal phase temperatures, and this was supposed to be the end of the cycle.
The next morning, April 1, my temp was the same, and I became hopeful. Then I tried not to be hopeful. But I couldn't help it, I was. I prayed. Then I tried not to think about it. Then I thought about it some more. I tried telling myself I could wait one more morning and then buy a test. But as I was on my way to yoga I decided I did not have that kind of patience. At yoga I tried to still my mind and be calm and centered, and it worked. Mostly. After we left the Y I drove straight to Bi-Lo and bought a test. I made sure it was the kind that you could use 5 days before your period because I wasn't taking the chance that it wasn't sensitive enough to use with midday pee.
When I saw that it was positive, words can not describe the elation I felt. I thanked God more times than I could count and then kind of floated around the house in a haze. I made lunch for Timmy and me and put him down for his nap, but my mind was elsewhere. I looked at that test again and again. There's nothing like the feeling of looking at two lines on a pregnancy test. Nothing in the world. In that instant your life is changed.
I was so impatient to tell Tim, but he was away and wouldn't be back for two days. Two days! And I knew because he'd mentioned it before, if this happened he wanted to be told in a special way. He didn't just want me to be like, "So, I'm pregnant." I think even if he hadn't told me that, I would still want to tell him in a special way since this is something we've both been wanting for so long. So I began brainstorming fun ways to surprise him with the news when he got home.Over the next two days as I just went about life doing the things I always do, I would suddenly remember, 'I'm pregnant, and Tim doesn't know!' I was so impatient.
At last he got home and dilly-dallied before taking his bags back to our room, as I got more and more antsy. I followed him back there as he told me about this and that. Then he stopped when he saw this on his nightstand:
Then he walked over to me and wrapped me in a big, long hug. Then he asked me some questions and I told him all about the past few days. Then he thanked me for putting the test in a plastic bag.:) It was very considerate of me, wasn't it?
And that's that.