That’s a number I heard today. HCG? HGC?

Progesterone 24

5 weeks pregnant.

And tomorrow I will be 36 years old.

I’ve never been a fan of counting. I prefer feelings and shapes. It will have to become my normal. I’ve been wishing for it. Counting periods, follicles, needles, now weeks, or months or trimesters. I hope.

I’m ready for numbers to mean new horizons and milestones.

I had to take a knife away from a student at school today. This isn’t typical, not an everyday occurrence, but it felt strange to feel nervous in that moment in a way I never have before. I noticed it differently.

I’m responsible for more than just me. I always feel responsible for others, but now there is an other inside me. I guess that means it’s starting to feel real.

Every blood test is the same nerves. A shoe suspended and me waiting for the sound of it to hit the floor.


4 weeks

I cannot believe I have to sit on this secret. I’m 4 weeks (at least) pregnant. It is such a mind trip. I think about sperm. Weird. I think about a little creature in there. Weird. I think about the fact that I won’t get a period (I hope) for a year. Awesome.

I had my second blood test done and the levels are progressing well, I’m told. The next step is blood test 3 (early next week) to keep watching the levels rise. I’m taking my prenatals and progesterone. No drinks, light exercise, lots of Netflix and early bedtimes. I’m feeling so much less anxious. Now I have a reason to which I can attach the moments when I start to feel fluttery. Obviously… I am aware that this is major. And knowing myself, it would be weird if I wasn’t a little worried in the back of my mind.

I’ve been seeing a therapist weekly since I had my series of panic attacks (pre-transfer).

Now I’m starting to cautiously see this as real.

If all goes well, I will be due some time around Oct. 28. Halloween is my favourite holiday, so this would be completely amazing!


Home Run

My mind is forcing me to be super focused and I keep noticing that I’m on autopilot. I am in the moment, then I am not. I am, I think, constantly aware, at least once every half hour, that I’m waiting for a phone call; the clinic will call today to tell me if my bloodtest results mean that I’m pregnant.

My wandering brain keeps bumping into the ‘if I’m not pregnant’ scenarios. I am couching my disappointment in conditions and rewards. I am trying not to get my hopes up. Who would do that?

So much has gone wrong.

So much has gone right.

But not quite right, yet.

The yet is the hard part.

I don’t want to hang my hopes on one moment. I can’t invest like that. I just keep being positive, outwardly, and telling myself inwardly that it’s not likely.

But why not? It could be.

“Hi love,

I’m thinking of you” my phone lights up.

I’m thinking of me, too.

I think it’s on both of our minds.

How could it not be?

So, I distract myself. Write it out. I’m really struggling for the next however many hours of not-knowing.

At 1 pm I called and got no answer. At 1:17 pm my phone rang. I was so ready for a negative … I almost held my breath.

‘You are pregnant.’

‘Whaaaaat?!?’ I almost whispered.

I called my wife, outside in the school parking lot. She was about to head into a meeting. My drama students are rehearsing Nightmare Tableaux and I cannot believe that I have this huge secret.

I sent Allia a picture… and it might be how we decide to tell my parents when we go out for dinner with my sister-in-law and my brother, all of our family together, tomorrow night. I know it’s early. But telling people won’t change the outcome. I am bursting. I am so excited and this is the first time I’ve really, honestly felt hopeful.

I cannot believe it.

Goodbye, My Love

I miss wine. We only broke up a week and a half ago. But it has been really hard. Being PUCO (pregnant until confirmed otherwise) is a waiting game. But it’s one I have to do alone – without one of my favourite friends.

Dear Wine,

I know this seems abrupt, and admittedly, it’s hard going through these cold winter nights without you. But we needed to take a break.

And yet…Everything reminds me of you. I see you everywhere.

We used to hang out so often.

My friends still see you around and sometimes I feel pangs if jealousy – resentful that you have other people in your life. I know breaking up was the right thing to do. The end just came so quickly; naively, I thought I’d be ready.

We even celebrated the end of our relationship and said we’d keep in touch – all the while being mindful of establishing some clear boundaries – at least until it wasn’t so hard. It’s not like either of us just ghosted. We had a proper send off. With a really nice dinner.

Still, spending so much time without you has been hard. I know it’s for the best. I just… miss you, is all.

If I see you, out on the town, don’t be offended if I don’t make eye contact, or keep my distance. Seeing you so happy with someone else is going to be tough.

You have lots of people to keep your social calendar full, but I can’t help remembering all those years working together at the vineyard; those great holidays we took in the Douro Valley in Portugal; Spain, Greece, France and Germany, and even the quaint moments where we backpacked on a dime in Hungary.

I know I seem like I’m having trouble getting over you and moving on with my life, but this is going to be so awkward for our mutual friends, not to mention how weird it’ll be around my family. I haven’t even told them that we broke up.

I know they’ll understand. No offence, but they’ll be thrilled. It’s not that they don’t love you – they do; heck, you’re always going to be an honorary member of the family, but I know they want me to be happy.

I have to live my life without you.

Until I take a pregnancy test.

So like maybe, just maybe, we can have a bit of a rebound, or slide into our old, comfortable relationship. But I’m really hoping to make this a clean break.



Tomorrow, Tomorrow

It’s the big day: my IVF frozen embryo transfer. I had all the right things going on last week, when my lining was 12, my follicles were at 21. I ovulated, then we plotted the 5 day wait…

I’m not really sure what any of this actually means, but I’m told these are great signs. 

I have been working to stay calm. I can’t really explain how tumultuous it’s been, with exams happening in the middle of this, and revving up for a brand new semester, all while crossing my fingers – as if it will help make the dates any different – that my ovulation would land my procedure any day EXCEPT the first day of school. The not-knowing was the biggest thing that was making me apprehensive. I’m feeling so lucky that Sunday is the transfer. At least I will be able to go home after and enjoy the rest of the day. Then – off to start all over again at school.

It’s all out of my hands now. I’ve done all I can – progesterone has been my three-times-a day friend. I’ve had all my blood work. I’ve taken care of myself – massage, chiropractor, therapist – all the self-care that, in general, helps me feel the very best.

I can’t wait for a time when needles aren’t part of the daily plan and I don’t have constant bruising. 

I know what the odds are. But I’m not going to focus on that. Stats are stats, but someone gets pregnant the first time. Maybe it will be me.