We transferred two embryos on a Wednesday. That Saturday, Jo, Freya, and I share a brioche and I pull a face and say ‘ugh, I can taste the egg wash on this!’.

The next day I feel unmistakable implantation cramping in one specific spot.  I refuse to walk into a restaurant because ‘it smells wrong’. I’m starving but I feel vaguely sick at the same time, shovelling food into my face and then sort of regretting it while craving even more food. And I am generally going through the day saying ‘Well it’s probably nothing but…’ while strongly suspecting that yes, it is something!  

The moon looms large outside. The weather is stormy for days.

We both know and don’t know, we definitely suspect that at the moment I am pregnant but we’re wary too after what has happened before. This doesn’t necessarily mean anything, we remind each other. We shouldn’t get too excited yet.

With Ice Ice baby I had been good and waited to test, but afterwards I regretted not having more ‘proof’ of the very short time that I really had been pregnant. So now I give myself permission to start testing as soon as there might be the slightest chance of a positive. The first test I take has the faintest of lines, you have to squint but it’s kinda-sorta there, ridiculously early.

The next day it’s a bit stronger.

Then the day of the blood test at the doctor comes and it’s there in the bloodwork as well, a beautiful positive. Nothing too crazy, the doctor says that looking at the numbers it’s likely one baby, not two. I believe she’s probably right thinking of how I only felt one spot of implantation. But it’s there, and it’s real!

Freya was known for nine months as our baby Sunshine, so looking at the moon now, so bright, so present, we try out names. Baby Moon? Baby Moonlight? Baby Moonshine? The last one is the one that sticks. And yes, we know that it has connotations of bootleg booze but oh well, why not, Moonshine just sounds the most fun *g*

Baby (or babies!) Moonshine, welcome to our life! <3

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