I'm That Girl

You know those people who like to tell infertiles to “just relax” or “go on vacation” or “just adopt—then you’ll get pregnant for sure”? Of course you know them. I know them too. They’re dicks. I mean, even a generally nice person’s rating automatically goes up from “not very douchey” right past “guys named Chad” to “Donald Trump” on the douchebag scale.

But dammit if they weren't right. 

Two weeks ago I put away the OPKs. I said, “Screw it! I’m going on vacation!” and then I did. We had a wonderfully enjoyable anniversary weekend and I even refused to prop my hips up after sex. We rolled over, cleaned up, and ate a sandwich like normal couples. When we got home from vacation, Bobby and I had a long talk about a adoption. We committed that if I wasn’t pregnant by the end of December 2014, we’d fill out the paperwork in January. 

Like clockwork, on CD30 I started spotting. It was (if you are squeamish, please look away, this is about to be the grossest thing I’ve ever typed - skip the rest of this paragraph) brown, and a tiny bit pinkish, but it wasn’t really “spotting.” It was mucousy. And slimy. And it was really only on the toilet paper—not...falling out of me. And after a day or two it wasn’t even brown any more. It was more green. I was pretty sure there was actual snot coming out of my vagina. 

Bobby’s parents were staying at our house, and I had already started volleyball preseason with horrible two-a-day practices (what kind of crazy coach has 6:00 a.m. practices!? Me, I guess). I didn’t really have time to worry about why my period was so wonky. I knew it would start eventually. It always does. Until it didn’t. 

My cycles are normally on the longer side, but I thought this time it might shift, since I ovulated somewhere around CD19. So when I hit CD33, and the spotting had nearly disappeared, I was confused. 

I’m not a POASer. Not at all. In fact, I don’t even keep pregnancy tests in the house. But...I was heading to evening volleyball practice, and I knew I was running drills where I would be scrimmaging with the girls. Should I play? Should I dive? It was only a few minutes before practice, and I didn’t have a pregnancy test. So I peed on an OPK, since I’ve read that they can also work as a HPT in a pinch. It was super positive. Very dark double lines. But then I noticed more brownish spotting on the toilet paper. Duped again. I was sure my period would start any minute, possibly even at practice, since I was starting to notice some crampy twinges in my stomach. I went and played volleyball.

The cramps stayed, but they weren’t ever as painful as menstrual cramps. Just very mild stretching. My period never showed up, and my temps never dropped. 

I know I’m burying the lead here, but I still don’t know what to think. And I don't want to step on toes or hurt feelings. I know how much it sucks to read these kinds of posts. Believe me, I know. I realize that by doing this I'm automatically bumping my douchebag status up to at least "guys named Chad." And the fact that this probably happened while I was relaxing on vacation might just lift me to the level of "calling people 'Champ'" or "hanging truck nuts."

But there I was yesterday afternoon, after finally making a trip to the store to pick up a real, live pregnancy test. I stared at those two pink lines longer than I’ve ever stared at two lines before. And that’s actually impressive for me, as I’m a graphic designer, and I spend a huge majority of my days staring at lines. 

The second line was definitely fainter than the first, but it was there. But it was so faint... That circle of thought went around my mind a million times. There’s a second line...I’m pregnant. It’s so faint...maybe it’s not real. Any second line is a positive...but why is it so light!?

I frantically drove to a nearby Walgreens with the intention of getting a digital test and some sort of “World’s Greatest Dad” mug for Bobby. I stared at the pregnancy test aisle for five straight minutes before running back out of the store empty handed. This was the most pregnant I’d ever been. I wanted to enjoy it for the day. I was terrified of seeing “Not Pregnant” so blatantly. (I realize now, the Walgreens' employees probably thought I was shoplifting. Oops.)

Telling Bobby didn’t pan out in any romantic, exciting, picturesque way I’d imagined. I left the test on the bathroom counter for him when he got home from work, hoping he’d find it. He didn’t go into the bathroom. So when he came back out to the living room after changing clothes, I eventually told him I got him something and left it in the bathroom. He paused Sportscenter, sighed, and went to find out what it was. 

He was in there a long time. I guess I was imagining him running out to the living room and scooping me up in his arms for a slow-motion, spin-in-circles celebration of happy squeals and tears. Instead, he came back with a confused look on his face. 

“Why are you telling me you’re not pregnant?”

“What? It’s positive.”

“There’s no second line.” 

“You don’t see a second line?” Great...this again. Maybe I am crazy.

“Yeah...but it’s so much lighter.”

“I know.”

“Why is it so much lighter?”

“I don’t know.” 

I then explained the concept of pregnancy tests to him, and how they were different from OPKs. How the second line could be lighter, and that still meant positive. I even made him read the instructions. But I was secretly wondering all the same things he was. 

“What are you saying?” he finally asked. 

I think he wanted me to actually say the words: “We’re having a baby!” or “You’re going to be a dad!” or even “I’m pregnant!” You know, things normal people say.

I didn’t. I just said, “I don’t know. This isn’t how I thought this would go.”

We lay on our bed together for a while and talked. He never reached “excitement.” More like anxious, yet slightly pleased with the idea. Of course, he would say he was being realistic. Over and over, he worried about getting too excited or attached. I hate so much what infertility has done to us. We can’t even be excited about our first ever positive pregnancy test because we’re both waiting for it to be taken away at any moment. 

I decided to test again this morning, maybe undiluted urine would give me a confident positive. It didn’t. It was exactly the same faint second line (but thank God for that faint little line!). I realize it’s much too early to be announcing this anywhere, but holy balls I don’t even know what to do. I’m telling all of you because I need you (also, you don’t actually know me, so screw being too early). And I will definitely need you if this all falls apart and it was nothing more than a shadow. Or a chemical. Or a miscarriage.

I realize it could be light because my period is technically only a few days late, based on my long cycles. However, I'm also something like 16-17dpo. So, you know, WTF?

So now what? Call a doctor (or maybe a psychiatrist)? Take a digital? What do normal people do when they think they’re pregnant?

What do you think about my sad little second line?