After a week of being absolutely 100% convinced that this cycle did not work I got the following phone call on Friday:
Scene: Tertia at restaurant, with work friends, enjoying a crisp glass of Chardonnay and a cigarette.
Phone rings, pleasantries exchanged
Dr: “Xxx (name of acupuncturist) was wrong.”
Tertia: (struggling to hear over din in restaurant and slight buzz produced by Chardonnay) “Pardon?”
Dr: “She was wrong, its positive”
Tertia: (now convinced that either glass of wine is causing auditory hallucinations or experiencing acid flash backs) “Pardon?”
Dr: (now laughing) “She was wrong, its positive, 164”
Tertia: “Are you sure?”
Tertia: “but I have been drinking and smoking”
Dr: (more laughter) “well stop immediately. Go for a repeat beta on Sunday. Good luck”.
Tertia starts bawling her eyes out. Total and utter disbelief. And then abject terror.
I was totally, and utterly convinced it hadn’t worked. Not only because my acupuncturist had said so and I trust her implicitly, but because I had felt nothing. Nada. Not an iota of a symptom. In fact I was so convinced that I wept my tears, got over it and made a follow up appointment for this Tuesday (which I must still cancel). I had worked out my finances for my next cycle etc. You know how convinced I was.
I also bought a pack of menthol cigarettes and 3 bottles of wine on Wednesday. I took my two big dogs for a walk on Wed night, had ¼ of the pack, three glasses of wine, cleaned out the cat litter box, stopped the steroids and heparin and had sex (!!!!) on Thursday. I was going to stop the PIO as well but my husband convinced me to wait until the beta. I did not even do any hpt’s because I did not want to waste 20 bucks.
Then when beta morning arrived on Friday I nearly didn’t go. It had started raining and I thought bugger that. But I knew my husband would be pissed off if I didn’t go. I didn’t even bother phoning the Dr for my results because I knew it was negative.
So imagine the shock of the phone call. I just started crying and crying. Because I had gotten over the negative, I had already mourned. And here I was taken totally by surprise. And of course then all the memories of my losses, and especially of Ben and his death came flooding back. And suddenly I was petrified. I can’t go through that again.
I phoned my husband crying so much he didn’t recognize my voice. But he managed to calm me down. Sadly enough by reminding me that all could go wrong so easily. That made me feel better. I thought “oh yeah, ok, so we have a positive beta, so what. We have about another 999 steps to go”. I could go back to my state of disbelief.
That night I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking that the lab had made a mistake. So I woke up at 5 and did a hpt, just to make sure that the lab hadn’t made a mistake, or the implanted embryos hadn’t suddenly died.
I was too scared to say any thing here, until my repeat beta. Which I had today. (Sunday has never taken so long to come around, I was at the lab before they opened!!) 305. Which had not exactly doubled in 48 hours. So that feeds into my paranoia nicely. Even if it just about as close as you can get. (did one implant and now is dying? Is this a weak pg? Is there something wrong with the embie? Did the sex hurt the embie? Etc etc)
So, for now, for this moment, I seem to be pg. It is my fourth positive beta out of the last four fresh IVF’s. Still no baby. So forgive me if I am just a little paranoid and cautious. It’s the first step in many many pass-fail points. I have just passed the first two, the first beta and the doubling beta. About 997 to go. I am doing another repeat beta on Tuesday. Just for my own peace of mind. Progesterone is excellent, over 120 (they only measure to 120 here).
I am still in a state of disbelief, waiting for the cards to come crashing down.
Oh and so much for the “thinking positive” brigade??? I have never been so positive it was negative in my life.