I’m still in a state of shock.
After taking the blood test we went for a coffee (I even sipped an espresso as a minor consolation that at least now I could go back to caffeine, booze and blue cheeses) and then walked home in the sunshine. I felt eerily calm, 90 per cent resolved that it hadn’t worked, but still hoping for a miracle.
Tapping away on my laptop for work I tried not to think about it too much. Next time I will definitely eat more pineapple to help implantation, I thought to myself. And I will do that no gluten, do dairy, no sugar diet again. I think it really helped my eggs along.
The results were promised by 3pm, but then at 1.30pm an email flashed up from the laboratory.
“Rufus! It’s here,” I yelled, and we opened it up to see… the number 530. And a long explanation in Spanish about acceptable ranges depending on the week of pregnancy. All of the numbers were much bigger than our number.
This is not the time for longwinded Spanish medical lingo, I can tell you.
We dialed Dr E as fast as my fingers could go and then had a ridiculous exchange because I have this weird habit of always asking people how they are. As in, Hi how’s things? Hi how are you? It’s a reflex. If I was on the deck of the Titanic as it was sinking it would still pop out of my mouth.
“Hi Dr E, It’s me. How are you?”
“I’m fine thanks, how are you?”
“I’m great. Well actually I’m confused, we got these results and what do they mean??? Are we pregnant?
“Yes. You are.”
At which point I just started crying and laughing and somewhere amid the gibber Dr E said, “How about you call back later and we can talk?”
I was just so happy. And so astonished. And so grateful. Rufus was all teared up, and I was sobbing and the sun was shining and it seemed like the best day ever.
When Dr E and I spoke later that day he said he was very, very happy. VERY happy, even. the beta number was “perfectly normal” (although judging by all the beta level tables I see online “normal” is a broad broad concept indeed). All I have to do now is wait, he says. Keep taking the progesterone (lots of fun for DH because it turns out I am pretty short tempered on this stuff), also prednisone, which apparently helps stop my body from rejecting the embryo if there are any immunological issues.
We will go for an ultrasound on Dec 5 or 6. “And then we will see how we are going and how many there are in there,” he said. A little doctor humour.
I know it’s very early days yet, and one thing IVF and IF teaches you is that so many things can go wrong, but for now we are doing a happy dance.