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.