I tested this morning, and according to the HPT, I am not pregnant. It’s at least a small relief to know that pregnancy probably does not feel like food poisoning, which is what I think I had. I don’t know why Shirley didn’t get sick, too. Maybe it wasn’t even the Chinese food. Maybe her stomach isn’t as sensitive as mine– probably all of the hormones I’ve been taking.
I still have to take a blood pregnancy test tomorrow morning, even though I’m pretty confident in the digital ClearBlue Easy test. I have nothing but good things to say about that test. It’s nice to leave behind all ambiguity about the result. A little hourglass flashes until it’s ready, and then you get a very clear read out: Pregnant or Not Pregnant. No shadowy blue lines that you go back and check every 5 minutes for an hour and a half just to make sure the result didn’t change.
I’m continuing to take the progesterone bullets until I get the results of the BPT– probably Tuesday morning. I’m hoping it will hold my period off until at least New Year’s Eve– preferably New Year’s Day. Otherwise, we will not be able to try in January because of a business trip. It sucks taking them when I know I don’t have to. They’re inconvenient and kind of gross, and I hate falling asleep on my back.
I think we’ve refined our formula. I think the Clomid will work but that we need to wait only 24 hours after the trigger rather than 36. Apparently I have vain and sensitive eggs. If they’re not feeling young and beautiful, they refuse to receive gentlemen callers. Whenever I picture what’s going on in there, I see a charged game of Fallopian Ms. Pacman. My eggs are more skilled than I because they have managed to elude the ghosts for going on 8 months now. They have to have racked up billions of points. I expect this kid to get a full ride to MIT by the time this is done.