48 hours from now, I’ll know for sure, but I just feel like we’ve failed, I’ve failed, to grow our embabies. Of course, I took a pregnancy test on Tuesday and it was negative, but it’s okay because it’s early so I can mindfuck my way into believing that it’s just too early to know. Yesterday, I had some bleeding, just a bit and it’s stopped, but I was convinced it was the end. I madly googled everything I possibly could to get answer — because I thought I wouldn’t get a period until I stopped the progesterone. All I got were a bunch of different experiences and nothing conclusive.. of course. It could be late implantation bleeding (10dp3dt, fyi), I suppose, but it just made me believe that I’ve failed and our babies are gone. I had me a good hopeless cry — a sign of things to come, if my suspicions are right. I took another pregnancy test this morning but fucked it up so the test didn’t work properly. And I was all out of pee so I couldn’t test again! And dammit, I’d been holding that pee for hours in preparation — I usually get up in the middle of the night to go.
I called the clinic and was given the patent “it could be bad, it could be good — you won’t know till the blood test”. Which I know is the logical answer, but still. They did tell me I could increase my progesterone to 3 times/day (oh goody, how am I going to use it at work — there’s no bed to borrow!) but I’m not sure what to do because the bleeding stopped. (Fellow IFers — any thoughts?) I’m also out of progesterone (I might have dropped one early on and shattered it into waxy pieces) as of tomorrow morning, so I had to request more. And get this, it has to come from the pharmacy that the clinic uses in town (one hour from where I live) so I either had to go pick it up tomorrow or get it shipped via Purolator. Picking it up meant I could get my blood work a day early, but I chose to have it shipped. I want to live in mindfuck world for one more day before my weekend is ruined. I have a gathering with my girlfriends on Friday night and I really need to be with them and have some fun and I know I wouldn’t go if I was devastated by reality. So, getting it shipped… to my husband’s school…. because someone has to be there to receive it and I don’t trust my workplace not to fuck it up. That’s right, shipping my vaginal progesterone suppositories to my husband’s school.
So that’s where I’m at. Full of unknown, full of pessimism. I really did try to be positive. I talked to them everyday, showed them the room that would be their nursery. I just wish the bleeding hadn’t happened and that I had some symptoms. Are wanting sore boobs too much to ask? I’m so used to failing at this fertility stuff, that succeeding just seems like something that happens to other people.