Of course, all the fertiles out there have no idea what that means. But hopefully you have some idea how incredibly lucky you are not to know that term.
Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. Technically, with twins.
They have names. I downloaded a lullaby app. I’ve been talking to them. I’ve promised to actually learn the words to the lullabies so I can sing them myself.
We had two “perfect” embryos. It’s hard to believe that’s all we ended up with after all those follicles, but it’s okay. I made it to transfer. I can breathe just a little bit. I can hope just a little bit.
Everything went smoothly (as smoothly as things can go with a full bladder and a clamped cervix). I discovered, I do in fact, have the world’s smallest bladder. I was supposed to drink 5 glasses of water. I drank just under 750ml and couldn’t put in another drop. And I was plenty full!! Thank goodness I didn’t down another bottle.
Storied moment — I’m laying there spread eagle in the stirrup things and Dr. M. goes “uh-oh” after the embryologist walks in. ??? I exclaim “What uh-oh?” (heart skipping a beat). Turns out I just signed the wrong form — yesterday’s form that looked like I might have one embryo to freeze. Top ten things not to say to a woman whose whole sanity rides on those two little embryos? I guarantee you, “uh-oh” makes that list.
So now I wait. And hope with all that I’ve got that at least one of those little embabies sticks around.