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I mentioned we were going to go back to the fertility doctor as soon as my next period showed up.  So I waited, and waited and didn’t become overly concerned when said period wasn’t on time.  My cycle has been getting longer each month but just for the hell of it, last Friday, I took a pregnancy test.  And then another.  Because both were positive and I literally stood there in my bathroom wondering how the hell that happened.

Well, I know HOW it happened but we aren’t really suppose to be able to just do this on our own.  Here we were just banging around on our own with zero thought to dates, timing or a baby and BAM, insta baby with no signs or symptoms aside from a missing visit from Aunt Flo.

I immediately called the nurse, who ran to my doctor and I’m not sure who was more shocked but they told me to come in right away.  I was told by other women who had miscarriages that I would be shocked at how I would be treated during the next pregnancy.  Kid gloves.  Helicopter doctoring.  No waiting.  You name it, they were right. There was no waiting for return phone calls, results, a certain date weeks out for ultrasounds or appointments and no being pawned off to other doctors.  No, you go to the front of the line and get your hand held.

Here is where I wasn’t thinking that day.  I went straight to the hospital, to the second floor, and into suite 2300 like I had done a million times.  It hit me like a ton of bricks when I was getting signed in, last time I was here was for the doomed ultrasound.  I started crying right there at the desk.  The poor woman checking me in thought I was nuts and I didn’t really give a shit.

Within an hour I had my blood drawn and results back.  I was certainly pregnant and it turned out so well that there was no need for me to come back for another draw. The exact words were that the baby was showing off.  Throughout the course of that day I spoke with the nurse five times.  I had an ultrasound scheduled for Monday and an appointment and second ultrasound scheduled the following week with my doctor.  I was given a pep talk, the emergency phone number, asked repeatedly how I was feeling and told what to do in the case of any cramping or bleeding over the weekend.

By the time my husband came home that night I don’t think much had fully sunk in.  When he sat down I told him I had an interesting day and said I was pregnant.  He turned around and said “Who the hell is pregnant now?!” Not someone else dear Husband, me, your wife.  This took some time to sink in followed by just how the hell did that happen? My question exactly.

Still not feeling pregnant and still in shock we went Monday for the ultrasound that showed I was right at 6 weeks with a due date of October 20th.  We could see baby had a strong heartbeat, was measuring correctly and everything looked great.  The tech was so enthusiastic and congratulatory while I laid there in stone silence, holding my Husband’s hand, not saying a word.  We had already been here before, with a healthy baby, and it didn’t end well for us.  Finally I just had to tell her about our prior experience so she would back off a bit.  I was overwhelmed.  Thank God she understood, finished her job, politely handed us our pictures and sent us on our way.

My Husband and I have done a lot of talking over the past few days.  Neither of us can bring ourselves to get excited.  This is absolutely nothing like last time.  We knew we were going to be robbed of these wonderful moments and here it is.  We are telling approximately the same people we told last time, which are not many, and leaving it at that until a complete 12 week confirmation.  We want to have hope and positivity for this baby but it is hard.  A miscarriage, especially how late ours was, changes you in ways that you can’t explain to someone.  Of course this is what we want, don’t get me wrong and we were on the track to start again anyways but we know what the worst case scenario is.

So here we go again.  Round 2.  We will take all the positive, creative, vibes that you can send.