On June 4th I was recovering from the tail end of a virus and feeling very frustrated. My usual signs of fertility didn't seem to be appearing and the weirdest symptoms of my cold seemed to be getting worse, not better. I was lying on the couch fighting off waves of nausea when I started to get angry that my body was playing such a cruel trick by making me queasy when I new I couldn't be pregnant. To stop myself from fantasizing about a common cold being pregnancy I decided to take a pregnancy test.
It was positive.
|The first positive test.|
I walked around stunned for the rest of the week before telling my husband. The day before I told him I took another test just to make sure. The first few times with word "pregnant" came out of my mouth I felt like I was lying but five different pregnancy tests had all said that it was true. Because of how well I was keeping track of my cycles I am fairly sure that I conceived prior to the last period so I hadn't had the experience of "being late" that's usually the first sign of pregnancy. Lost of women have some implantation bleeding around the time that would have been their period but mine was heavier than the stories I'd heard so I didn't think that could be it.
The next couple of weeks went by fairly easily. In spite of that early queasiness I never got really ill and I had no problem being accepted into a midwifery practice where an initial appointment was booked for around week 10. Then a little past week 7 I started bleeding again.
The past week has been dedicated to preventing a miscarriage which has been nerve-wracking, draining and physically painful. In the end there is good news though. When the bleeding stopped a sixth, and then seventh, test showed that I was still pregnant.
|Proof that I'm still pregnant.|