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March 18, 2010

I logged on to the internets this morning with a cheery, “Hello!” and got a cold shoulder in return.

“Is everything ok?” I asked.

The internets merely shrugged and turned their backs to me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing,” they said but I could tell by the singsong voice that something was, indeed, wrong.

“C’mon,” I cajoled, “You can tell me.”

The internets ran their finger in circles along the top of the table nearby, chins down, glancing up at me like Princess Di used to do through her bangs.  “Weellll,” they began…


“It’s just that…”

“What? It’s just that what?” I asked, eager to learn what I might have done to offend the internets into this frosty reception.

“Well, your transfer was last Monday, the 8th.  And you’ve been keeping us at arms length ever since.”

“Oh that.  Ahem…”  I turned away this time.

“Haven’t we been good to you?” asked the Internets.

“Of course you have, ducks,” I said.  “It’s just, well, it’s hard to talk about it.”

“You can tell us!” they implored.  “Haven’t we always told you want you wanted to hear, even if you had to search 12 pages deep into Google to find what you were looking for?”

“Well, yes,” I said.

“We’re always there for you,” one said.

“Even at 4 am when normal human beings are tucked away and snoring,” another one groused.

“Ok,” I finally agreed, “It’s like this.  Sara had her first blood test today and, well…”

“Yes? Yes?” the Internets said eagerly.  “What were the results?”

I bit the knuckle of my first finger.  Could I?  Should I tell them? No, I couldn’t possibly…   But it would feel so good to tell someone.  Besides, I’ll just burst if I have to keep it inside a moment longer.

“Ok,” I started.

The internets sprung forward.  “You simply must tell us!  It’s so cruel of you to write about your eight year struggle to have a baby by seemingly any means and then not tell us the results of your 5 day transfer of two 4BB embryos from your wonderful egg donor into your very fertile and young surrogate, Sara,” they said in a rush. “Did something go wrong?”

“So,” I said with a small smile, “that’s just it.  Sara got a positive HPT on Saturday and today the clinic called to say she was really, most sincerely pregnant – with a level of 290.”

“Get out!” the internets gasped.

“That is incredible!” one shouted.

“Unprecedented,” sniffed another.  “Why just look here.  Even if both embryos implanted, counting the retrieval of embryos from the donor as the “ovulation” date (3/3), you’re looking at only 15 days along.  The HCG levels should be around 68.”

“Still,” I hastened to point out, “that says that a twin pregnancy on day 14 could be as high as 313.  And have a look at this.  This one says that the level could be as high as 426, even with a singleton.”

“Hmmmm, I don’t know…” said one.

“Seems a little off to me, “ mumbled another.

“The first day of her last period was 2/13,” I said.  “I know it seems absurd, but Sara is technically considered 4 weeks pregnant. Why, she’s nearly 5 weeks along if you go by the LMP standard.”

They withdrew to the other side of the room.

“Muttermuttermutter,” they said amongst themselves, casting furtive glances over their shoulders towards me.  Finally, they turned around and approached.

I stood in the corner, wringing my hands, wondering what conclusion they had drawn, worried that perhaps such a high number meant impending doom or something.  They know everything after all.

They took another step towards me.  I took one towards them.   Suddenly they all rushed forward.

“Congratulations!” they shouted, gathering me into their warm embrace.

“We knew you could do it!” one said.  “Never doubted you for a moment,” said another.

I hugged them back and we cried together for a moment.   Then we suddenly all grew serious.

“We musn’t tell anyone,” I whispered.

“Quite right,’” they agreed at once.  “You could jinx it.  Infertility is jinxy like that.”

They all tiptoed away whispering amongst themselves again, turning at the last moment to give me a big thumbs up and then, poof they were gone.

So, I’m sorry to say that there is nothing to tell you today.  The fact that I have been posting and deleting odd things that seem to be all over the map this past week means absolutely nothing.  It certainly doesn’t mean that I have been operating on what little sleep I could catch between tossing and turning – or running around sacrificing small animals under the full moon (because that’s what heathens do, apparently).

Let me just take another page out of an old internet fertility Goddess’ book and say this:   Nothing Bad Has Happened Yet.   (Thanks, Getupgrrl – and I miss you.)


  1. Alexicographer permalink

    Wow — congratulations, indeed. And not to worry, I won’t tell a soul!

  2. Alexicographer permalink

    Oh and I, too, remember and miss Grrrrl. NBHHY, indeed.

    • I’ve been in email contact with her over the years. I’m not sure if you followed her all the way to the end but she ended up using a surrogate as well. Hers worked on the first try though…

  3. Yay! So happy for you!

  4. YEAH!! “Infertility is jinxy like that” yep, I feel the same way and felt that way every day of my pregnancy. Even though my son is 4 months old (19 1/2 lbs and 27″ long) big and healthy and I still watch him sleep and make sure he is breathing. He is so ultra precious to me and I know all babies are special, but IVF babies take it to another level I think.

    • Four months old! I can’t even let myself go there yet. At first I was kind of upset with the clinic because I had asked them to plan it so that the surrogate’s holidays weren’t spent waiting to go into labor. I suppose the week before Thanksgiving is better than somewhere after. Anyway, the more I thought about it, the happier I became. Instead of the rushing around frantics of the typical month between holidays, I plan to watch my baby(ies?) sleep and take pictures of them and just luxuriate in contented happiness from the time they’re born until Spring. I usually hibernate in the winter anyway, but I am really looking forward to taking it easy and floating on the waves of happiness – finally!

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