First, a huge THANK YOU for all the love on my BFP post! It means so much to me.
I feel like a fraud telling people we’re pregnant. Before you get your panties in a bunch: We’re not telling everyone, just a handful of family and friends who knew our test date (and my Twitter peeps, of course). When I texted M with the beta results, and then my family later on, I felt really weird typing the words “We’re pregnant!” It’s the truth, but it still feels wrong somehow. I feel like I need to qualify every positive statement. For example:
We’re pregnant! There’s no guarantee that it will last (as we all know), but for the time being, we’re pregnant.
And when someone jumps too far ahead, I’m quick to bring them back to reality.
So, who will you have as your OB?
Well, if this turns out to be a viable pregnancy, I suppose I’ll have to think about that.
Part of it is my own fear of losing this one, too. Part of it is trying to avoid letting down my loved ones again. I don’t want to get their hopes up.
But their hopes are already up. WAY up. On the drive home from my embryo transfer, my mom giddily said, “Oh, I think we’re expecting twins!” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that there was a greater chance of this not working at all.
Then there’s the guilt. It’s a form of survivor’s guilt, or so I’ve heard it described. Not that I think I’ve survived infertility just because I got a positive pregnancy test, but I have come much further than a lot of other women who have suffered longer and harder. Our first IVF cycle couldn’t have been more perfect. It’s more luck than I believe I deserve, and that makes me feel really guilty.
It doesn’t help that I had to schedule my first prenatal appointment already. Thanks to the oil boom, there’s a HUGE influx of people to this part of the state, so doctors are booking way in advance. I was lucky to get an appointment for the very last day of January, when I will be (gods willing) 10 weeks. I wanted to wait at least until after the first ultrasound with the RE, but the OB’s office warned that that would mean mid-February at the soonest.
Oh, and get this! My OB’s clinic has started conducting prenatal orientation GROUP appointments. Basically, a group of barely pregnant women meet with a nurse to go over their medical history, then learn all the dos and don’ts of pregnancy, 4 weeks before they see the OB for the first time. I’m sure it works brilliantly for the average fertile, but I’m not her. There’s no way I’m going to sit among normal fertiles as they chatter with delight about pregnancy boobs and complain about not being able to eat sushi for 9 months. I’m happy to go through the orientation one-on-one, but this group thing is not for me.
A month ago, I promised to open my heart to our potential baby, so in that spirit, I’m trying my hardest to quell my negative thoughts, and to actually think positively about this pregnancy. I want to think about baby names and nursery decorations without feeling like I’m jumping the gun. A friend and fellow loss mom told me, “Don’t let the loss fears overcome your joy. You’ll never regret being excited and hopeful, no matter what happens.“