Everything was different in our third transfer. My body was responding well to the medication now that it was being regulated. My ultrasound results were better than they had ever been. We found a donor with two very high-quality embryos. We spent a few days relaxing by the ocean after the transfer. When we got home, I began to notice more differences. Medicated transfer cycles usually give false symptoms, but I could tell this time was not the same. I had all of the symptoms of early pregnancy; nausea, tenderness, swelling. My belly had expanded so much that I couldn’t wear certain pants. I looked at my body in the mirror and I knew… I was pregnant.
Of course, our history has made me cautious of optimism, so I was cautiously optimistic. I tried not to focus on the symptoms and remain as relaxed as I could until I went for my test.
My test was scheduled for a Saturday. I also had plans to meet some friends for drinks that night. Would I surprise them with the news? Or would it be too early? They would notice I ordered a non-alcoholic drink. Should I make up another excuse? Maybe I should get there early so I can order a virgin drink without anyone knowing.
This time walking into the lab for my bloodwork felt less scary. I was pretty sure I knew what the result would be. I was hours away from finding out for sure. I scheduled my appointment for the morning so that I would have the results the same day.
Later that afternoon I logged into my online health account and scrolled to the recent result. I was pregnant. But for the second time, my beta was lower than it should have been. My heart dropped into my stomach. How could this be happening again? After being so sure that this was it for us, after having everything feel so right, I was right back to wear I had been the previous summer. But this time, I wasn’t so naive to think that I would be one of the miracle people to have a successful pregnancy after slow rising beta.
Because I wasn’t sure what else to do, I got dressed up and when out to meet my friends. I called my sister on the way to tell her the results of my test. She has always been one of my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. She urged me to stay optimistic and not jump to conclusions until after speaking with the clinic. When I got to the restaurant I was in a fog. All I could think about was whether or not this pregnancy was going to last. I knew I wasn’t being myself. I ordered a non-alcoholic drink. I tried to put on a happy face. I just wanted to crawl into a corner and cry.
The next day I spoke with the clinic. As I anticipated, they were not hopeful this would be a viable pregnancy, but I would have to have my beta monitored to know for sure. A few days later I went back to the lab for bloodwork. What I feared became reality once again. My beta was dropping, and I would have another miscarriage.
Icing and Animal Crackers 