So, there I was, utterly convinced — yet again — that it wasn’t going to work. Because, as per usual, I didn’t feel any different. And the first time I tested, I got a result I’d never had before. Not “pregnant”, not “not pregnant”, nothing at all. Not a single line.
And so I tested again, and there it was a faint, faint line that suggested that I wasn’t entirely “not pregnant”, a whisper of HCG, that magical hormone that indicated that something had happened, and that even if it didn’t continue to happen, for a brief moment, however fleeting, things were, well, positive.
This time, however, I didn’t take anything for granted. “It’s not a thing until it’s a thing” we told each other, just like we had with the first donor cycle that became our son. And after the last one, the one that didn’t work, I felt in even less of a position to assume it would all be fine. Statistically, using those embryos, it was 50/50, especially so early. And so when, inevitably, I started to bleed, before we’d had that first early scan. I assumed the worst.
And of course it was a bank holiday weekend and so no chance of being seen at the clinic for what felt like weeks but was of course only days. But I wanted to know, if only so I could spend the weekend drowning my sorrows when it turned out I was having another miscarriage. So hurrah for living in London and the age of the internet — and for having the disposable income — which meant I could book a very early scan at a place on Harley Street that was open on the Saturday afternoon of a bank holiday weekend and had appointments available.
Within two hours of booking the appointment I was lying on a bed having given a tearful account to the sonographer of why I was there. She seemed utterly unmoved, and unconcerned, but I’ve talked about this before. These people don’t expect the worst, because they’re not you. And despite the fact that I was still bleeding — and she told me she could see quite a lot of blood — she also told me she could see a visible heartbeat, and an egg sac. “Not a thing, yet, just not not a thing, if you see what I mean” I texted B, relieved and yet reluctant to get our hopes up.
Egged On 
First of all, eep! You have a positive, and that’s amazing. And secondly, thank you so, so much for writing this with such honesty and clarity. I know that everyone’s experience is so different, but I feel that this has so beautifully captured exactly how I’m feeling now. Me and my partner had our first donor-egg embryo transfer in May and it failed. We had another transfer a few weeks later, and I did a pregnancy a couple of days ago. Like you, my first test was faulty (never, ever buy Superdrug cheapies)! No line. On the second test (a clearblue this time) a faint cross appeared within a minute. I still wasn’t convinced. Yesterday I did another test and the same thing – the cross could be a little stronger, but I’m not convinced. I’m checking my boobs every two seconds to see if they still hurt (they do, but do they hurt as much as they did last week?!). Basically, I’m sending myself a bit crazy. Which is why it’s been so comforting to read that I’m not the only one who is feeling massive anxiety, and not quite believing the evidence in front of me, or at least I’m expecting for something to go wrong. I think this happens when you’ve had a miscarriage/been trying so hard to get pregnant, as we both have. I just want to send you all my love and the best of luck. And most of all, I want to say a huge thank you for writing something that chimed so perfectly with what (and I’m sure so many other women) are going through right now. xxxx
Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to comment. I have everything crossed that you keep getting positive tests and all goes well x