I had planned on writing about how my first days of
school work went this week (its going well, in case you’re interested) or maybe publishing one of the half posts that I had started this summer and never finished, but then something else happened.
Starting with the number 18.
Peak + 18.
I’ve gotten to 17 before, a few times. But then reality always comes back, in the form of blood.
Saturday I started to have hope, maybe it was possible. I knew as soon as I thought about it I’d get my period, because that’s what happens. But I went there, because I needed that hope. It had been so long since I even felt a little hope of pregnancy, especially these last few weeks. The disappointment would be worth those few moments of hope.
But I had never reached day 18 before.
This is what 18 looks like.
I still can’t believe it. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to jump out from behind the wall and yell “Gotcha!” but then this. I didn’t know these things came in positives. One day I was preparing for the worst, scheduling my start date around my period, and the next I’m pregnant. How can things change so quickly and yet still so slowly? It would have been two years next month. Two years of beautiful cycles and still nothing.
I’ve been waking up at night suddenly and then I stop, smile, and go back to sleep. I remind myself, I am still pregnant and I enjoy the moment. This is not a dream. Lately, I couldn’t even dream dreams this good.
Those words still don’t feel right together but there they are. I get my blood test tomorrow. It is early and if there is anything that sub/infertility has taught me its that a baby is the goal and pregnancy is only step 1, so please pray with me that we get to hold this little one on earth.
Praise be to God.
*If you know me in real life, I still appreciate your prayers but lets keep this between us only! We will wait to tell the rest of the world in time.