Her name is Trixie

Who, you may be asking, is Trixie? She's my lovely Aunt Flo.

I'm not sure what to think anymore, so I'm giving up all control, and just going with the flow. Hehe.. flow. Like Aunt Flow. But I digress.

So, IUI #2 was supposed to start Thursday, but I read the instructions on the Clomid and started second guessing myself about my short period. "Do not take this medicine if you could be pregnant," it said. Hmmm... I wonder... I should double check, just to be sure.

As a result, on Thursday morning, I pee on a stick. And lo and behold... a VERY faint line. Now I'm totally confused. What the heck is this all about? Could the meds still be in my system after 17 days? It had been almost 24 hours since I spoke to my RE's office, and I'm sure they miss talking to me, so I call again. I knew they probably would think I was insane... but I wanted to be sure.

So, I leave a message. And I drive to work.

It's 9:00am. As I wheel my red laptop bag through the maze of cars on my way into my office, my phone rings. I explain, "I was supposed to start my clomid today, but I took a pregnancy test this AM to verify it was OK to start and there was a faint line - what do I do?" "Well," she says, "maybe it would be a good idea for you to come in for a blood test." We set up an appointment for 10:00am. My RE office is 30 minutes away, so I rush inside, posptone my 10:00 meeting, let another person know I will not attend their meeting, and rush back out the door by 9:35. As I sprint through the parking lot with my keys, I think how crazy this all is.

I make it by 10:02. Not too bad. The blood draw takes all of 2 minutes. It is obvious that they do a LOT of these. There is a little bench built directly into the wall with shelves on either side loaded with needles and swabs and tubes. I sit down, roll up my sleeve, turn my head away, close my eyes, and it's over. "If they don't call you by 4pm, call the office for your results." "OK," I say, and jump back in my car for the 30 minute drive north.

Luckily, I have lunch with a friend scheduled and a busy afternoon of back to back meetings, which helps keep my mind off the test. At 3:30, during a meeting with my Associate Director (of course), my phone rings. It's my RE's office. I excuse myself (not too gracefully I might add, thanking God the area of the building I happen to be in has cell phone service at that particular moment), and step into the hall, talking in hushed tones in the far fetched hope to keep this call private.

The nurse tells me the test came back positive (holy crap!?!?), but that my HCG level is really low (only a 13), so not to get my hopes up. "Chances are it's a chemical pregnancy" she says, "but it's a good thing you called us this morning before starting your clomid."

She reiterates multiple times not to get my hopes up, and tells me to wait for the real bleed to start before starting round 2. "Point taken," I think, "but the egg fertilized!!" The sperm got in there on it's own! This particular point is a BIG DEAL! Even if this ends as a chemical pregnancy, I feel better knowing fertilization can happen for us.

I step back into my meeting in an excellent mood, waiting on pins and needles to call Mr. Peapod. I finally get to break away, find a semi-quiet corner near the lobby and share the news with him. Trying to find privacy in our open office environment is kind of a rediculous task due to two factors: open cubes, and spotty cell service. But it was as private as it was going to get, and I didn't want to wait.

He had been so down in the dumps about my period coming, and I knew he was feeling like it was all his sperm's fault. I hadn't seen him happy in days... but when I shared the news with him, I heard his face light up! And my heart smiled. I know this will likely NOT end in a baby this time... but it's progress. It's getting to the next step. And it lets me see my husband feel good again. That's pretty darn good in my book.

Now, it's Saturday. Every time I go to the bathroom, I expect to see blood. Every time there is no blood, my hopes rise just a bit. Mr. P and I have started saying "no whammies!no whammies! no whammies!" each time I go, which I then confirm with another "no whammies!" when I have a successful non-blood pee.

Both our hopes keep going up. But we're trying to temper them and keep the hope reigned in. I go back on Monday morning for another blood test. We'll see what those HCG numbers do then.