Ok so on the left is this mornings test… on the right the one I just took, and bloody timed, so I wouldnt have any worries about it being incorrect….
One line might be faint…..
BUT…. it’s not just me is it…??
Thats two pink lines….
OMG…. am I actually pregnant? I think I’m in shock!
11DPO….
If women who are trying to get pregnant aren’t tortured enough, there is something so heinous, so vile, that I wouldn’t wish it upon my enemy…
Evaporation lines.
Basterds.
They are these little second lines that appear after you have taken the test. Except they aren’t bright pink.
If your anything like me, you pee on a stick, don’t get an instant result and throw it away after less than a minute skulking back to bed. Then when you wake up 40 minutes later you rush back downstairs, take out the discarded pregnancy test, and have another look… just to see… even though you know your not supposed to look after 10 minutes.
Evaporation lines, give you hope. They play with your mind and make you think theres a shred of hope. Evaporation lines are grey and not pink. And are just left over from the test, it doesn’t mean your pregnant.
F*** you google. Ruined my day. I hate you. I want to cry but I don’t… so I won’t. On the inside, I am crushed. GUTTED, broken.
I’ve attached my evaporation lines… taken from three different angles!!
I think its grey. My wife thinks it’s pink.
Because I am that crazy, I took two normal photos, and then decided to take a macro shot… a shot like a microscope… you get WAY close to it… When you do that the line looks grey… no baby…
You decide…
Edited 23rd Nov 2015 – I decided to come back and edit this post because it still gets a lot of hits. For any woman coming to read this post now, I want to you know there is hope… That evaporation line turned out to be pink and the earliest positive pregnancy test possible! I was pregnant, I carried to term, and now I have a beautiful boy. Keep going. You will fall pregnant. ❤
I have to apologise that firstly, this blog over the last few weeks seems to have become a dumping ground for the batshit crazy, irrational and overly depressed Sacha.
I don’t really have many other outlets to talk about how I feel, but more importantly whilst I love talking in general I hate talking about how I ‘feel’. I much prefer writing it down. I am a born writer, and it helps me to process my shameless, most private thoughts.
Today is bad. Really really bad. I meant to write a blog a couple of days ago about the aching silence between the first couple of days after IUI and the last couple when you can test before your period.
There was silence. It was horrendous.
My body stopped doing anything. There were no cramps, no signs, no symptoms. Silence is sometimes worst than hearing a cacophony of signs and opinions. It was just waiting. Unending, tortuous, mind numbingly slow waiting.
I am now 7dpIUI.
I am due on in 6 days.
Today was bad because I genuinely wanted to punch myself in the face. I am so fucking annoying. I (and by I, I mean my head/mind – my voice in my head which thinks and reasons) would not shut the fuck up.
I felt like I had a split personality, and all over a god damn pair of tits.
Usually by now my boobs would hurt. I thought, they hurt every month. Usually starts 8ish days before I come on and then stops a couple of days before I actually come on.
So I asked the wife this morning if she could remember if they always hurt, and she said no. Pretty bluntly too. I was like oh. Because I was so sure they hurt every month.
Anyway, point being, they don’t; I (irrespective of whether or not she can) can’t remember the last time they didn’t hurt before I came on.
Well, this sent me off on some insane thought process, some ridiculous symptom spotting madness all day. I could scream I am so pathetic.
All that happened this morning, was I woke up and my boobs DIDN’T hurt, and to be fair, I was bloated.
What kind of mad women spends an entire day twisting herself into knots over breasts that DON’T hurt for god sake?
Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not? Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?Am I pregnant, am I not?
That is literally what my head has been doing all day. I just want it to shut the fuck up. It’s made me angry, and I was already exhausted today without my head twisting me into a mess.
I am in pieces. Exhausted, desperate, and seemingly slightly nuts.
I found the pregnancy tests that the NHS use, some really cheap pee strips. That apparently are the most sensitive pregnancy tests on the market.
Traditional tests like Clear Blue and First Response, are good, but they measure up to 50mlu. Before your pregnant you have about 5mlu in you. So 50 is about the time your period is due. These NHS ones supposedly test to a sensitivity of 10mlu… thats basically as soon as the egg implants.
The tests arrived yesterday.
I am now away on business so I can’t use them anyway. I don’t really know whether or not I should test, or just wait to see if I come on.
I partly don’t think I can wait. But at the same time I am aware that an egg can take as long as 12 days to implant. but 12 days is the day before I am due on…
How would my body know not to come on?
Look there I go again, I just need to shut up!
I am exhausted, I really am. I nearly fell asleep in the middle of the day today. It can’t be good to do this to myself!!
I just need to keep telling myself it will be ok, whether I get a BFP or BFN… it will be ok.
So this is it.
The tortuous two week wait has started.
I had my first IUI on valentines day. Ironic hey?!
I know I am kidding myself, thinking I could get pregnant on my first IUI.
But I can’t help it. Bloody human nature to be hopeful. I am just terrified of setting myself up to fail.
I mean I KNOW the odds are against us. The chances are fairly slim even if you have no fertility issues. Most women take 3 – 4 IUIs before a successful pregnancy.
UGH.
I feel like the picture. The tests, in fact the whole process is waving a big fuck you in my face at the moment. Laughing at me, because theres nothing I can do but sit and wait for hours, days, weeks… ok just two weeks, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime. A full blown, eon of time before I can take a test!
I am slightly unsure of when to test too. I am due on, on the 27th Feb. But thats only 13 days after treatment, and usually your due 14 days after. So if I tested, I am not sure if I would get a false positive or vice a versa. The clinic said to wait 16 days. But that would be a few days after I was due on…. which might be a give away!
I have our NHS appointment on the 26th, so part of me wants to test then, and according to the clear blue tests I could test as early as the 24/5th but no point testing early.
I have cramps, supposedly you can get cramps after IUI and its normal, I had a minute amount of bleeding yesterday too. Again apparently thats normal. But cramps are still there on day 2.
They are off putting. My head knows they are IUI linked. But part of you, the irrational, illogical, emotional part of you wants desperately to cling to some shred, a sliver of hope that it might, just might be a sign.
I’m an idiot.
Mentally I keep slapping myself around the face, for being stupid, for clinging to any hope. I need to get real here. The odds are low. Plus this is my first time, I would have to have some serious luck to get pregnant first time.
The frustration I’m feeling has penetrated my skin, my cells, my every fibre. I woke up feeling irritable this morning, and exhausted.
The emotional journey we have been on since before Christmas, is draining my energy reserves to nil, in fact, I think I am in debt with myself!!
Whilst I might be able to see a light at the end of the tunnel. A tiny pee stick might ruin it all. Throw a big Fuck You my way, and thats it. All over for another month.
I suppose the one ‘small mercy’ I have at the moment, is my cycle is so short, that if I do get a BFN (Big fat negative) I only have 10 days to wait before I would go back to Denmark to try again…
I feel like irony is playing tricks on me, if I have to go back to Denmark, the next time will be on my birthday. What is it with me and dates?
If it does work this time, I will hit 12 weeks and be able to tell my friends whilst were all on holiday at Gran Canaria pride!
And there I go again, trying to piece tiny, insignificant nothings together to find some shred of ‘pregnancy’ or fate or anything.
Two Weeks… Two Weeks… Two Weeks… I hate two weeks.
Fortnights are not my friend any more.
I keep falling prey to ‘googling’
No woman trying to get pregnant should use google. It should be banned, locked down and banished from your life.
I am beginning to think its the ‘google of death.’ You end up in this vicious pattern, of googling one desperate question after the next. Getting more anxious and upset each time. One answer sends you flying on a blanket of elation, the next, down into a depressive tear ridden mess.
Everyone said it would be an emotional journey. It really is.
I have taken to wearing some Danish Kronor. I got these whilst over there, change for our train tickets I think. But now I’m wearing them round my neck… for luck I guess.
Another stupid made up superstition.
*slaps self mentally*
How the hell am I going to get through the next 11 days?
This is pain.
But pain of a whole different nature.
It’s pain you cant feel physically.
It’s a nasty squirming sensation. A plague that infects the veins in your brain. Wriggles its way around your cerebrum. Nudging and irritating you just often enough you don’t forget it is STILL 11 days…… or 264 hours, or 15,840 minutes.
Sounds like a lifetime.
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Women’s intuition is a really funny thing. It reminds me a little of an old boys club.
Most, but not all women have exceedingly good intuition. It’s a frighteningly powerful tool we use to seek out ‘wrongs’ or ‘no good’ but sometimes to seek out things we must do, or prevent.
Women generally like to over analyse everything, I am the ultimate example of an over analyser. It’s painfully annoying I hate myself for it, but I simply can’t help it.
I regularly sit around with my friends debating this ‘hunch’ I have, or a feeling I got when so and so looked at Billy bob in a strange way, and now I’m convinced that such and such is happening.
These discussions are highly secretive! If Billy Bob or whoever it was they were looking at were to interrupt or pass by, then hushed silences would fall over us, or indiscrete hand gestures would be thrown around the conversation bringing us to a rather undiplomatic silence.
The thing is our intuition tends to grow with our friends. One of my friends and I in particular, have a strange ability to throw a single look at each other, make one teeny facial expression and convey an entire conversation in an instant.
In fact I might only need to utter a single word or even half a syllable, and she will be nodding enthusiastically saying “mmm hmm, I thought so too”
Not that we would want to admit it, but we women are harbouring ourselves and our intuition in old boys clubs.
My point about this, is, we do strange things. We instinctively know when something’s wrong, when someone’s cheated on us or stabbed us in the back.
I pick up my phone a millisecond before it rings knowing its a particular friend.
And then…. Then there’s the really weird intuition, the intuition about our body’s….
If we pay just a tiny amount of attention to our body we can know all sorts of weird things.
Two months running I knew exactly when I was about to ovulate. So I got up and tested myself and got a positive result…
This month in particular was such a strong sensation that I sat bolt upright and just “knew” even though it wasn’t when I ought to have tested.
Women know things. We do. And we use them to do special, amazing and impossible things.
I think that I knew, I must of. My body must of told me to take that fertility test all those months ago. Something deep down an intuition, an inkling – that despite all the dismissals from the wife and doctors saying I was wasting my money- that I needed to take that test to prove I needed to do something now.
Why else would I of gone against professional advice?
The thing that I love about these boys clubs is that all the women around you coo and cluck in agreement affirming your suspicions because they too ‘had a feeling’ or simply understand because they’ve been there before.
We have an ability to know when you meet someone for the first time if they are a good egg or a bad egg.
I can reel off numerous examples of meeting someone – take another one of my friends, she had this new girlfriend that I took an instant disliking to for no apparent reason. I mean, I met the poor girl for a couple of hours, and immediately hated her. I couldn’t tell my friend why, either. I just didn’t like her.
Turns out the bitch was a psycho, and because I’m a good friend I didn’t say ‘I told you so’ !
In fact, my instinct is so acutely sensitive one of the wife’s best mates asked me to go to dinner with his new girlfriend to suss out whether or not she was worth hanging on for.
Turns out I didn’t like her either, and as it happened, she was a bad egg too.
Sometimes, we just know.
What I am hoping, is that I will know if I’m pregnant before I can test in two weeks… After the insemination yesterday two weeks of waiting is a seriously long time. It’s going to kill me. I’m impatient at the best of times but waiting two weeks for something this important is literally torture.
Maybe I’m over analysing because I’m desperate for a ‘sign’ but seriously…
We know shit right?? Sometimes you can know?!
God I hope so because otherwise it’s going to be a fucking long two weeks!!
Sacha Black 