Before I became a mother to my awesome man-children, before the Preggo Fairy decided to wave her magic wand over my lady-bits and before I had the honor of growing twins, I promised myself that I would never, EVER complain about pregnancy symptoms. And so far, I have kept my word. Any time I find myself bracing my arms against the bathroom wall or the shower stall, yakking up whatever stomach contents the twins do not approve of, I play the glad game.
When I'm beyond exhausted, I'm glad about it because naps just make the time go by faster. When I have to get my nightly injection of progesterone, I'm glad because I don't have to worry if my body is making enough of it to sustain my pregnancy. When I'm red in the face from throwing up, I'm glad because that means there's plenty of hCG in my system, and that makes for a good, healthy pregnancy.
That is, I played the glad game until today. As usual, I was up at four for my morning ritual of Frosted Flakes and Facebook. I was zonked on the couch by 5am and then up for my 6:50am alarm. I had to hold my breath while I made the boys their breakfast and poured their glasses of milk. At one point, I resorted to hand signals and nods/shakes of the head to communicate with them because talking created vibrations in my throat, which triggered my gag reflex.
For those of you who've met me, you know how much I talk and that this could create problems.
I popped my morning Zofran pill and went along my nauseous business. Because the Snow Gods hate me, our school district called a Snow Day. By 9am, I was wiped out again and by 10am, I was in bed. Yes, in bed while my children had free-reign of the house. Smart, I know. Finally exhaustion beat out nausea and I fell asleep. By noon, I was downstairs, holding my breath again while I made the boys some lunch.
Anyhow, the day went on like this, naps, nausea, naps, nausea and sometimes a handful of hormones that brought me to tears, thrown in. I was rescued when I invited the three of us over to a dear friend's house. Her brother took the kids sledding and she gave me cinnamon muffins and let me whine. I am beyond blessed to have family like this.
Fast forward to now and I have managed to throw up dinner, snapped at the boys more than once, cried to Jeff on the phone and am sitting here, wondering how I'm going to get through yet ANOTHER Snow Day, tomorrow.
And it just hit me.
I'm still glad. I had every intention of breaking down to all of the internet and all 12 of my blog readers and saying that I was officially complaining. But as I've been typing this all out, I still can't help but feel that glow of gladness. Yeah, this part isn't so fun and I'm not looking any more pregnant than I was last week, but week seven means two new pairs of limbs, brain cells that are being generated 100 per minute, and two precious mouths and tongues are starting to form.
If that's not worth a ton of puking, emotions on the fritz and insane amounts of fatigue, then nothing in this world is.
For this pregnancy, I am glad.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Food porn
This was one of many mornings I've had where I woke up before 5am to, what I'm calling, "Food Porn". Although my food aversions have definitely outnumbered my food cravings, the cravings definitely have the best side effects. I'm gently roused from sleep by the sight of a bowl of dry, frosted flakes topped with fresh, sliced bananas. Barry White-esque music starts playing as ice cold milk is poured, in slow motion of course, all over the flakes and fruit, splashing in dramatic fashion.
I would say it's safe to assume that this is my body telling me that a bowl of frosted flakes and sliced bananas would make the twins happy. And because lately it's rare that I have any desire for any specific food, I always take the suggestion of the food porn movie and consume what it tells me to.
The other, often played food porn is of a giant glass of ice cold orange juice, complete with beads of condensation dripping down the glass. Always with some sort of swanky, boom-chicka-wow-wow music playing, of course.
And now, at minutes from 9:00 in the morning, I shall reheat a slice of pizza from last night's pizza party. Yes, there is food porn playing in my head now. Stringy cheese that droops slightly from the crust to a pair of lips.
Yes, I am aware of the fact that I am just not right.
I would say it's safe to assume that this is my body telling me that a bowl of frosted flakes and sliced bananas would make the twins happy. And because lately it's rare that I have any desire for any specific food, I always take the suggestion of the food porn movie and consume what it tells me to.
The other, often played food porn is of a giant glass of ice cold orange juice, complete with beads of condensation dripping down the glass. Always with some sort of swanky, boom-chicka-wow-wow music playing, of course.
And now, at minutes from 9:00 in the morning, I shall reheat a slice of pizza from last night's pizza party. Yes, there is food porn playing in my head now. Stringy cheese that droops slightly from the crust to a pair of lips.
Yes, I am aware of the fact that I am just not right.
Monday, January 3, 2011
"But Charlie, don't forget...
...what happened to the man that suddenly got everything he ever wanted: He lived happily ever after."
And that, folks, sums up today. My husband and I are proud parents to a fantastic 7 1/2 year old, a wonderful 4 year old and today, we found out that we are expecting twins. AND we saw heartbeats. Like from actual, beating, still forming hearts. We hadn't expected that at all. We knew it was early, but our IVF office accommodated us with an early ultrasound because Jeff is leaving the country for a month, and wouldn't get to be at the first ultrasound, otherwise.
We were beyond thrilled when we saw two sacs, but were brought to tears when we saw slight flickering of movement from what would be two, perfect little hearts. I am shell-shocked and a deer-in-the-headlights, while also having it finally feel real and tangible. This is absolutely unreal and looking me in the face all at once. My head is soaring in the clouds and my feet are firmly planted on the ground.
For one of a handful of times in my life, I'm speechless. Since there are no words, I'll share some pictures:
And that, folks, sums up today. My husband and I are proud parents to a fantastic 7 1/2 year old, a wonderful 4 year old and today, we found out that we are expecting twins. AND we saw heartbeats. Like from actual, beating, still forming hearts. We hadn't expected that at all. We knew it was early, but our IVF office accommodated us with an early ultrasound because Jeff is leaving the country for a month, and wouldn't get to be at the first ultrasound, otherwise.
We were beyond thrilled when we saw two sacs, but were brought to tears when we saw slight flickering of movement from what would be two, perfect little hearts. I am shell-shocked and a deer-in-the-headlights, while also having it finally feel real and tangible. This is absolutely unreal and looking me in the face all at once. My head is soaring in the clouds and my feet are firmly planted on the ground.
For one of a handful of times in my life, I'm speechless. Since there are no words, I'll share some pictures:
One of many firsts
Today is the day that I get to hold my husband's hand while we both stare, with great excitement, at a black and white monitor and, for once in my life, don't see a barren wasteland staring back at us. One of the wonderful, white-coat-clad IVF office staff is going to move an ultrasound probe (I hate that word, by the way) across my belly, and then stop to show us the life that we created (ok, so really it was Chuck the lab tech), staring back at us.
This is one of the things that I craved so badly throughout the past decade. The experience of looking at life on an ultrasound screen, and then glancing over to my husband, and seeing that familiar look of when he sees his children for the first time. He had it with Andy and Ben, and both times, that event left an image that is forever burned into my soul's memory.
This is stuff you carry with you into the next life.
Anyhow, I have to hop into the shower, get my teeth cleaned (I hope I don't throw up on the dental assistant...I should warn her of the invisible gag threashold near my back molars) and then meet my husband at the doctor's office. As soon as I have access to the webbernets, I can post the ultrasound picture.
Today is a great day for one of many firsts.
This is one of the things that I craved so badly throughout the past decade. The experience of looking at life on an ultrasound screen, and then glancing over to my husband, and seeing that familiar look of when he sees his children for the first time. He had it with Andy and Ben, and both times, that event left an image that is forever burned into my soul's memory.
This is stuff you carry with you into the next life.
Anyhow, I have to hop into the shower, get my teeth cleaned (I hope I don't throw up on the dental assistant...I should warn her of the invisible gag threashold near my back molars) and then meet my husband at the doctor's office. As soon as I have access to the webbernets, I can post the ultrasound picture.
Today is a great day for one of many firsts.
Friday, December 31, 2010
The verdict is in...
...and I'm pregnant. Like, really pregnant. I took a test two days after that last post and saw a line. Faint, but there. The second lines kept getting darker and darker with each new test and each passing day. I went in for my first blood draw and it came in at 402. (They wanted to see a number of 100 or more. I sure showed them!) Then I went back again the day before yesterday for a routine, 2nd blood draw. They want to see the first number double every 2-3 days. I did them one better: I damn near trippled it! The results came back at 6483. (If it had doubled every 2 days, it would have been in the 3500 range)
Which leads me to believe that there is more than one Andrea-Jeff hybrid in there. And let me tell you how glad I am that the number is that high. Sure, for the obvious reason that it indicates a viable pregnancy, but because my symptoms kicked full-freaking-force in about 2-ish days after that first positive hpt. I was worried that I was just being a drama queen about the symptoms, but the high level of hCG let me know that it's not (all) in my head. I know the progesterone shots make me tired, but I was beyond tired. Like, think of Lance Armstrong doing back to back Tour de France races. That tired.
Also, I developed a sixth sense. No, no dead people involved, but this sense can't be categorized as "smell" because there's a supernatural and superhuman component to it. For example, I can smell what you had for dinner.
Yesterday.
Ok, not really, but did you know that couches have a scent? As does paper? And if I can smell those things, you can be sure that the smell of the dog kibble bin in the garage, the boys' morning breath, the trash can, and egg no*gag* (sorry, I can't even type that without wanting to vomit) are a million times stronger. I've joked that I want to get a job freelancing as a CSI bloodhound. I can put those puppies to shame.
And I am proud to report that I have not complained about a single symptom thus far. Well, I did complain once, but I had a very valid reason. See, I can't look at an avo*gag*do without wanting to spew. I was supposed to make gua*gag*amole to bring to a family gathering on Christmas Eve, but the idea of mashing the avo*gag*dos was more than I could bare. This is so very wrong because I am a Californian and it is a requirement that I love avo*gag*dos. And I do. On grilled steak, mashed into heavenly perfection and served with chips, on all Mexican dishes, you name it, I want it served with avo*gag*dos.
Or, at least I did.
But other than that, there has been no complaining. I'm more than happy to be tired, I'm more than happy to have superhuman smelling powers, I'm even more than happy to toss my cookies about once a day. My favorite parts about puking (no really, I'm being serious here...I have favorite parts of the event) are when:
1. Mid vom, Jeff says, very sweetly might I add, from the other side of the bathroom door, "Are you ok? Can I get you anything?"
and 2. When the fun is over and I exit the oval office, he's waiting for me, grinning ear to ear, hand in the air to give me a high five. I have my own, personal vomit cheerleader.
I love that man.
So anyhow, there ya go. I'm one of the luckiest people I know and got knocked up (with most likely more than one spawn) on my very first shot (pun totally intended) of IVF/ICSI. Jeff has to go to China for a freaking month, so my awesome IVF nurse moved up our first ultrasound to the day before he leaves. We should know how many aliens are in the Mother Ship by Monday afternoon.
Until then, have a wonderful New Year!
Which leads me to believe that there is more than one Andrea-Jeff hybrid in there. And let me tell you how glad I am that the number is that high. Sure, for the obvious reason that it indicates a viable pregnancy, but because my symptoms kicked full-freaking-force in about 2-ish days after that first positive hpt. I was worried that I was just being a drama queen about the symptoms, but the high level of hCG let me know that it's not (all) in my head. I know the progesterone shots make me tired, but I was beyond tired. Like, think of Lance Armstrong doing back to back Tour de France races. That tired.
Also, I developed a sixth sense. No, no dead people involved, but this sense can't be categorized as "smell" because there's a supernatural and superhuman component to it. For example, I can smell what you had for dinner.
Yesterday.
Ok, not really, but did you know that couches have a scent? As does paper? And if I can smell those things, you can be sure that the smell of the dog kibble bin in the garage, the boys' morning breath, the trash can, and egg no*gag* (sorry, I can't even type that without wanting to vomit) are a million times stronger. I've joked that I want to get a job freelancing as a CSI bloodhound. I can put those puppies to shame.
And I am proud to report that I have not complained about a single symptom thus far. Well, I did complain once, but I had a very valid reason. See, I can't look at an avo*gag*do without wanting to spew. I was supposed to make gua*gag*amole to bring to a family gathering on Christmas Eve, but the idea of mashing the avo*gag*dos was more than I could bare. This is so very wrong because I am a Californian and it is a requirement that I love avo*gag*dos. And I do. On grilled steak, mashed into heavenly perfection and served with chips, on all Mexican dishes, you name it, I want it served with avo*gag*dos.
Or, at least I did.
But other than that, there has been no complaining. I'm more than happy to be tired, I'm more than happy to have superhuman smelling powers, I'm even more than happy to toss my cookies about once a day. My favorite parts about puking (no really, I'm being serious here...I have favorite parts of the event) are when:
1. Mid vom, Jeff says, very sweetly might I add, from the other side of the bathroom door, "Are you ok? Can I get you anything?"
and 2. When the fun is over and I exit the oval office, he's waiting for me, grinning ear to ear, hand in the air to give me a high five. I have my own, personal vomit cheerleader.
I love that man.
So anyhow, there ya go. I'm one of the luckiest people I know and got knocked up (with most likely more than one spawn) on my very first shot (pun totally intended) of IVF/ICSI. Jeff has to go to China for a freaking month, so my awesome IVF nurse moved up our first ultrasound to the day before he leaves. We should know how many aliens are in the Mother Ship by Monday afternoon.
Until then, have a wonderful New Year!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Meh.
I don't feel like blogging today, so I've copied and pasted a conversation that took place about 20 minutes ago. Red = me, blue = dear friend.
9:15am
Woohoo!
9:16am
ysssssss
snowday
so jealous!!!
9:16am
lol
it's not my fault we have an inefficient snow removal policy
9:16am
I wish we had one.
9:17am
So I'm officially crazy.
Well, crazier.
And I'm hallucinating.
9:17am
Um you are injecting hormones (in oil)...that'd make you crazy
9:17am
brb, flipping pancakes
9:17am
what are you crazying about?
ok
9:20am
so I have these STUPID-SENSITIVE test strips
lemmie find link
http://www.early-pregnancy-tests.com/extra-sensitive-pregnancy-test.html
10u of hCG
these aren't your momma's hpt strips
have been testing out the hCG trigger
was out on the evening of 3dp3dt
9:22am
ok
9:22am
and I considered it "officially" out on morning of 4dp3dt
Took one yesterday and nada.
9:22am
meaning that it isn't in your system anymore?
and any hcg would come from a pregnancy?
9:22am
No biggie, nothing appears because Happy and Grumpy are still implanting (fingers crossed)
yes
so I pee this morning
dip for 3 seconds
and again, nothing
but because I'm insane and love to torture myself
ugh, brb, last pancake to flip
9:23am
lol
ok
9:26am
anyhow
I tortured myself by googling "6dp3dt"
and followed a link to this other insane infertile woman
who got a pos hpt
but like, BARELY
like, at first I thought "girl, you crazy."
then I looked at a different picture of the same test and was like
great, now I'm crazy, too because I see it
so I went back to my test (still sitting on the bathroom counter, waiting out the 5 minute thing)
and stared
and stared
and squinted
and I saw something. but don't get excited, because I totally didn't see anything
because I'm insane
9:29am
ha ha
9:29am
and because I want to see something
9:29am
do you have a picture?
no, sometimes you can see the faintest of faint lines
9:29am
no, after about 20 minutes of squinting and rubbing eyes, I flushed the damned thing because it was taunting me
9:29am
i don't think you are crazy
lmao
9:29am
No, really, I think it was the negative image of the control line
so not only was I seeing lines that weren't there, but I was hearing the little, evil voice of the hpt
see? officially nucking futs
9:30am
it's a good sign really
9:30am
what, being crazy??
9:30am
I was at my nucking futtiest when I was pregnat.
9:30am
lmfao
awesome. looking forward to being even crazier than I am on any given day. I honestly didn't think there was a higher level of crazy.
9:31am
I am giddy with excitement for you
9:31am
it's like Dante's levels of batshit crazy
9:31am
just you wait, henry higgins, just you wait!
9:31am
lol
9:31am
exactly!
9:31am
and we TOTALLY do it to ourselves
being infertile is a physical disease AS WELL as a mental disorder
moreso with the latter
9:32am
true
9:32am
ok, I have a wee pancake waiting for me
9:32am
one wee pancake
9:32am
and cold coffee
9:32am
yeah, mine is cold
9:32am
mmm
9:32am
let me know what your test looks like tomororw
because we all know you will be testing tomorrow
9:32am
a sign of a momma...cold coffee
9:32am
:P
9:32am
you bet
of course!
9:33am
hee hee
9:33am
hell, I'd planned on peeing in a cup right before bed tonight
9:33am
:X
well let me know then, too!
9:33am
I do have an arsenal of these things, after all
batshit crazy #1, over and out
And to further prove that I am, indeed, insane, here's a picture:
9:15am
Woohoo!
9:16am
ysssssss
snowday
so jealous!!!
9:16am
lol
it's not my fault we have an inefficient snow removal policy
9:16am
I wish we had one.
9:17am
So I'm officially crazy.
Well, crazier.
And I'm hallucinating.
9:17am
Um you are injecting hormones (in oil)...that'd make you crazy
9:17am
brb, flipping pancakes
9:17am
what are you crazying about?
ok
9:20am
so I have these STUPID-SENSITIVE test strips
lemmie find link
http://www.early-pregnancy-tests.com/extra-sensitive-pregnancy-test.html
10u of hCG
these aren't your momma's hpt strips
have been testing out the hCG trigger
was out on the evening of 3dp3dt
9:22am
ok
9:22am
and I considered it "officially" out on morning of 4dp3dt
Took one yesterday and nada.
9:22am
meaning that it isn't in your system anymore?
and any hcg would come from a pregnancy?
9:22am
No biggie, nothing appears because Happy and Grumpy are still implanting (fingers crossed)
yes
so I pee this morning
dip for 3 seconds
and again, nothing
but because I'm insane and love to torture myself
ugh, brb, last pancake to flip
9:23am
lol
ok
9:26am
anyhow
I tortured myself by googling "6dp3dt"
and followed a link to this other insane infertile woman
who got a pos hpt
but like, BARELY
like, at first I thought "girl, you crazy."
then I looked at a different picture of the same test and was like
great, now I'm crazy, too because I see it
so I went back to my test (still sitting on the bathroom counter, waiting out the 5 minute thing)
and stared
and stared
and squinted
and I saw something. but don't get excited, because I totally didn't see anything
because I'm insane
9:29am
ha ha
9:29am
and because I want to see something
9:29am
do you have a picture?
no, sometimes you can see the faintest of faint lines
9:29am
no, after about 20 minutes of squinting and rubbing eyes, I flushed the damned thing because it was taunting me
9:29am
i don't think you are crazy
lmao
9:29am
No, really, I think it was the negative image of the control line
so not only was I seeing lines that weren't there, but I was hearing the little, evil voice of the hpt
see? officially nucking futs
9:30am
it's a good sign really
9:30am
what, being crazy??
9:30am
I was at my nucking futtiest when I was pregnat.
9:30am
lmfao
awesome. looking forward to being even crazier than I am on any given day. I honestly didn't think there was a higher level of crazy.
9:31am
I am giddy with excitement for you
9:31am
it's like Dante's levels of batshit crazy
9:31am
just you wait, henry higgins, just you wait!
9:31am
lol
9:31am
exactly!
9:31am
and we TOTALLY do it to ourselves
being infertile is a physical disease AS WELL as a mental disorder
moreso with the latter
9:32am
true
9:32am
ok, I have a wee pancake waiting for me
9:32am
one wee pancake
9:32am
and cold coffee
9:32am
yeah, mine is cold
9:32am
mmm
9:32am
let me know what your test looks like tomororw
because we all know you will be testing tomorrow
9:32am
a sign of a momma...cold coffee
9:32am
:P
9:32am
you bet
of course!
9:33am
hee hee
9:33am
hell, I'd planned on peeing in a cup right before bed tonight
9:33am
:X
well let me know then, too!
9:33am
I do have an arsenal of these things, after all
batshit crazy #1, over and out
And to further prove that I am, indeed, insane, here's a picture:
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
4dp3dt
I know it's been a while, but I've got a perfectly good excuse: I've been sleeping. Yeah, pretty much all day, every day. Which, I must admit, does make the days go by faster. (That's a good thing when you're counting down the days.)
So where were we? Oh yeah, we'd gotten our fertilization report and it was good. Jeff and I went to the hospital on Friday, I got to take a happy-fun-sleepy-time pill, THEY PUT A FREAKING CLAMP ON MY FREAKING CERVIX and then placed two embryos (one 8-celled grade A and one 8-celled grade B) near the top of my uterus. Did I mention that THEY PUT A FREAKING CLAMP ON MY FREAKING CERVIX?! Yeah, that was fun.
Because we had 7 that fertilized, I decided to name them after the Seven Dwarfs. And because I'm a Pollyanna-style optimist, I decided that they transfered "Happy". Because Jeff is a Fox News watchin', mechanical engineer, he decided the other one was "Grumpy". I informed him that if we ended up with a colicky child, he would be in charge of it until it decided to stop crying.
Anyhow, here is the first-ever baby picture of my future spawn. Happy is the one on the top left, Grumpy is down on the bottom right.
Friday and Saturday were spent lounging in my pajamas, but by Sunday, I'd gone a little stir crazy. So, my sweet husband asked his parents to watch the kids and took me to see "Love and Other Drugs" and then out for Mexican food afterward. Let me just say that I hope I don't jeopardize my status in the "girl club" by saying that the movie wasn't great. Like, at all. My theory is, the makers of this movie knew that, but decided to cast the very gorgeous (and at times, very nude) Jake Gyllenhaalaaleeyhannnalleenneall and Anne Hathaway.
So here I sit, 4 days past my 3-day transfer and I feel nothing. Well, nothing but a whole lotta tired. I am, however, convinced that I am pregnant. At this point in embryo development, the embryo isn't even an embryo anymore, but a blastocyst. It has already started to hatch out of it's shell and is beginning to attach itself to the uterus. I've provided a diagram of that last step, below:
Ok, I might have substituted the boring, sciency labels for my own. The labels I picked are MUCH easier to pronounce, though. That, and they make about as much sense as the originals. But, if you're reading this and your name is Jeff, you're going to want to know what the boring, original names were, so here you go.
Mandy, one of the awesome IVF nurses that was with us on Friday, said that I could come in for a beta on the 23rd, so rather than spend all of Christmas Eve either getting stuck in the veins with a needle and jumping every time the phone rings, I'm opting to go in on the 23rd. That, and I really don't think what is remaining of my psyche can take any more waiting.
Oh, and if you think I'm even waiting that long for a pregnancy test, you are wrong, my friend. Very wrong. In my posession are 19, very sensitive, hpt strips. They don't detect hCG at 50u, or even a laughable 20u, but 10u. I've heard of women getting positives on as early as 8dp3dt and because I'm more impatient than my children, I'm so planning to POAS.
I'm armed and dangerous, folks!
PS
Jeff, if you're reading this, I would like to say that I am sorry. If I ever promised not to POAS before the 24th, I was most likely under the very strong influence of some pretty hardcore happy drugs. So that makes that promise null and void. And come on, you knew what an impatient girl I was when you met me.
So where were we? Oh yeah, we'd gotten our fertilization report and it was good. Jeff and I went to the hospital on Friday, I got to take a happy-fun-sleepy-time pill, THEY PUT A FREAKING CLAMP ON MY FREAKING CERVIX and then placed two embryos (one 8-celled grade A and one 8-celled grade B) near the top of my uterus. Did I mention that THEY PUT A FREAKING CLAMP ON MY FREAKING CERVIX?! Yeah, that was fun.
Because we had 7 that fertilized, I decided to name them after the Seven Dwarfs. And because I'm a Pollyanna-style optimist, I decided that they transfered "Happy". Because Jeff is a Fox News watchin', mechanical engineer, he decided the other one was "Grumpy". I informed him that if we ended up with a colicky child, he would be in charge of it until it decided to stop crying.
Anyhow, here is the first-ever baby picture of my future spawn. Happy is the one on the top left, Grumpy is down on the bottom right.
Friday and Saturday were spent lounging in my pajamas, but by Sunday, I'd gone a little stir crazy. So, my sweet husband asked his parents to watch the kids and took me to see "Love and Other Drugs" and then out for Mexican food afterward. Let me just say that I hope I don't jeopardize my status in the "girl club" by saying that the movie wasn't great. Like, at all. My theory is, the makers of this movie knew that, but decided to cast the very gorgeous (and at times, very nude) Jake Gyllenhaalaaleeyhannnalleenneall and Anne Hathaway.
So here I sit, 4 days past my 3-day transfer and I feel nothing. Well, nothing but a whole lotta tired. I am, however, convinced that I am pregnant. At this point in embryo development, the embryo isn't even an embryo anymore, but a blastocyst. It has already started to hatch out of it's shell and is beginning to attach itself to the uterus. I've provided a diagram of that last step, below:
Ok, I might have substituted the boring, sciency labels for my own. The labels I picked are MUCH easier to pronounce, though. That, and they make about as much sense as the originals. But, if you're reading this and your name is Jeff, you're going to want to know what the boring, original names were, so here you go.
Mandy, one of the awesome IVF nurses that was with us on Friday, said that I could come in for a beta on the 23rd, so rather than spend all of Christmas Eve either getting stuck in the veins with a needle and jumping every time the phone rings, I'm opting to go in on the 23rd. That, and I really don't think what is remaining of my psyche can take any more waiting.
Oh, and if you think I'm even waiting that long for a pregnancy test, you are wrong, my friend. Very wrong. In my posession are 19, very sensitive, hpt strips. They don't detect hCG at 50u, or even a laughable 20u, but 10u. I've heard of women getting positives on as early as 8dp3dt and because I'm more impatient than my children, I'm so planning to POAS.
I'm armed and dangerous, folks!
PS
Jeff, if you're reading this, I would like to say that I am sorry. If I ever promised not to POAS before the 24th, I was most likely under the very strong influence of some pretty hardcore happy drugs. So that makes that promise null and void. And come on, you knew what an impatient girl I was when you met me.
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