After the embryo transfer, there is about a ten day wait before a pregnancy test is likely to show anything.

I don’t have a clue whether it worked or not.

It’s hard not to be constantly on the lookout for potential symptoms. Every twitch, every feeling whatsoever suddenly gains a possible significance.

After a few days, my breasts are suddenly feeling very swollen and painful. That leaves me excited at first, because boobs = pregnant, right? But after some research I figure out it’s more likely to be all the hormones I’m taking that are causing it than it being a proper pregnancy sign.

On another day, I feel cramps. That could mean implantation, that the little embryo is making itself right at home. Or it could mean nothing at all.

The day after that it’s a spinny feeling in my head. But then that goes again too.

So I dutifully swallow all the pills and take all the medication as directed, ten items a day, and time crawls on.

It’s hard not to drive myself absolutely crazy with all the tiny rules and advice as well.

I need to cut down on the caffeine, I might be pregnant!

No Brie, or Camembert, or blue cheese!

No hot baths, hot showers, or cherry pillows!

I can’ t be carrying heavy things!

The cats shouldn’t be sleeping on my stomach!

Somewhere in the middle of the two weeks of waiting, I consider that there’s actually something nice in the not knowing too. If I am pregnant, it will be the very earliest of beginnings, where so much can go wrong, so I will be worried anyway. And if I’m not, then we did all of this for nothing, and it will be heartbreaking.

So this is safe still, this is where I can enjoy the not-knowing, the possible, the perhaps.

The happy unknown.

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