This week my doctor said that we could try again in three months. If, after six, I wasn’t pregnant then we would start looking at why that may be. Since I was there, and had suspicions as to my condition, I asked if there would be negative implications if I were to get pregnant right away. He confirmed what I had concluded from my own research by saying “No”. The medical community says 3 months, but there is no medical reason for that number. It has more to do with the psychological health of the parents.
I bought a bunch of home pregnancy pee-stick tests and took one. Three days before I was supposed to get any kind of result. Not a Big Fat Positive, but the answer was staring me in the face. I should have waited before taking any more tests until Monday or Tuesday (when I would be officially late), but of course I couldn’t. The next day, both tests were solid answers. POSITIVE.
Once I was sure, I shared the news with Mike. Neither of us can really believe that it happened again so soon… We are not telling people yet. Just family. We couldn’t be happier. It’s not the innocent giddiness of the last pregnancy, but an older, wiser, more cautious happiness.
Baby is just a mass of cells. A blastocyst. It has begun it’s journey down the fallopian tube towards my uterus.
So much about Baby has already been determined by the chromosomes and DNA that have come together. The rest is pure possibility.
I am over the moon, but I know that Baby and I have a long way to go before we are out of the woods.
One day at a time…