Getting A Positive

Getting a positive result on a home pregnancy test this time around was a lot different than with Munchkin.  Last time it came after two years of trying to conceive and a month and a half after my dad died.  I was on day thirty five of my cycle.  I was so down and positive that we were never going to have a baby.  I took the test late at night and The Man had to convince me it was positive.  The line was so faint that I didn’t want to get my hopes up.  I remember saying something along the lines of “who believes these things anyway?  It’s a $1.50 piece of plastic!”  He reminded me that millions of people use them and that they are pretty accurate.  I went to the doctor the next morning (a Thursday) and the test there was negative.  They told me to come back on Monday if my period didn’t come before then. In the meantime I ended up taking five or six more tests before I believed it.  I was crushed when I had some spotting and so relieved when the positive popped at the doctor’s on Monday when I went back.  I paid attention to every twinge, every cramp, afraid that it was something bad.  I held my breath for the entire pregnancy, afraid that we were going to lose Munchkin.  I loved every ultrasound and every time we heard the heartbeat.  Hearing the heartbeat never got old.  Never. 



After getting that first positive I believed, I remember sitting down on the bed holding the test.  I said something about I said something about having a feeling that Munchkin would be born via C-Section.  I’m not sure why I felt that but it turned out to be true. I was afraid of labor, afraid of the pain. I didn’t want the C-section and tried everything I could to avoid it.  It took me close to ten months to recover from that unexpected event.

This time around, it’s been different.  The positive came after 5 months of trying and The Man didn’t have to convince me as much.  I actually tested early because it was hurting to nurse Munchkin.  I kept checking her latch and it was perfect so there had to be another reason for it.  I took two more tests the next day and they were  positive right away.  I didn’t run to the doctor, as I didn’t know who I wanted to see and I knew that it could still come up negative.  Who knew that the tests you buy at the store are often more sensitive than the ones the doctors use?  I really didn’t want a blood test so I was happy to wait.

It’s still early and lot can still happen.  We’re praying and trusting that we’ll have a healthy baby in November.  I don’t have the same fear that I had last time, about the pregnancy or labor.  Even though I had a c-section, I labored for 24 hours (without an epidural.)  Six of those hours were with pitocin contractions, fighting the need to push with no epidural.  While I’m not looking forward to the pain, I feel empowered.  I know I can do it. 

So far, punkin (what we’ve decided to call the new wee one) is kicking my butt.  It amazes me how something so small can wreck so much havoc on my body.  I’m exhausted, have wicked heartburn, and am nauseous if I don’t eat every 2-3 hours.  It still hurts to nurse Munchkin and I’ve started the weaning process.  I have mixed feelings on that.  Hormones are out in full force as well, a evidenced by my meltdown to The Man about feeling guilty about weaning.  And the ugly crying fit I had the other night over the fact that my dad won’t meet punkin either.   It wasn’t pretty.  Some days are worse than others.  On better days I get nervous that something has happened to punkin.  So while I’m worrying less, I’m still worrying.  I ended up in the ER one night last week with sharp abdominal pain.  They were concerned that it could be my appendix.  They did an ultrasound.  Right before the tech told us not to be concerned if we didn’t see anything, as it was early (I was 6w2d) and you don’t always see anything.  Thankfully we saw punkin and the heart was beating.  It was glorious and was beating 112 bpm (which is good for that age.)  I didn’t get to see it for long but The Man was able to watch the whole ultrasound.  I keep reminding myself that one the heart is seen beating, the miscarriage rate goes down to 5%.  I know that it could still happen, but I’m doing my best to trust and not worry.