Today marks 13 weeks, 2 days.
I can't believe we've gotten this far after so many false starts over the past five years. It is so strange to have pregnancy things magically seem to be working. Knock wood, not taking anything for granted, one moment at a time. Hard not to wonder what is different now? So many fresh IVFs, and transfers, and three natural pregnancies on top of three IVF pregnancies. But all that didn't work. And now? Now it seems like this baby is practically growing itself (knock wood, not taking anything for granted, one moment at a time).
Will's mom says that the difference this time is that when Will's father passed away this summer, he began overseeing our trying to conceive journey and has helped this last transfer actually (finally) be the one to work.
Sounds as likely as anything.
Whatever it is, it feels so miraculous. So hard to fathom.
I'm thrilled right now, even if I am a bit confused about where I am trimester-wise in pregnancy land. I think I'm maybe in the second trimester? According to some sources, apparently. Other references make it sound like I need to get to the end of 14 weeks first.
How do you count the trimesters? Is one method more popular and accepted than the others? I'd be most curious.
But count the days and weeks however you want. We are decidedly, amazingly (knock me over with a feather) pregnant. Pregnant enough that I have purchased one pair of maternity pants and some drapey shirts (hoping to hide this another month or so from the prying masses at work). Not so pregnant as to really be showing, but pregnant enough to feel like I'm looking rather fat. Pregnant enough to be off all hormone support now for over a week (and yes, we snuck in an extra blood draw at the end of last week and estrogen and progesterone looked just fine...rising some even off of the meds).
It is absolutely crazy to behold,
but I am pregnant.
At least for today.
And I still can't believe it.
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