If plan “A” didn’t work, the alphabet as 25 more letters! Stay cool.-Unknown
With my husband back and a guarantee this time would not be a waste, I proceeded with my 3rd round of Clomid (100mg) – 5th try total. Emotions and hormones ran amok just as the round before and I ovulated around day 18. My husband and I definitely did our best to make this try count. We had sex twice on the day I ovulated and once the day after. For added “peace of mind” I also made sure I put a couple pillows under my hips and laid my legs up against a wall each time for about 15 minutes. I don’t know if that honestly does anything, but as a scientist, the thought of gravity fighting back on those little suckers was enough for me to try and help out the situation.
Now it was another waiting game – just like the first 3 attempts. This time, I felt sure we had accomplished something. We had to. We did everything by the book; exactly what my OB said to do. It just HAD. TO. STICK.
And stick it did.
I couldn’t believe it. I started checking about 5 days before my period and I SWORE I could see a faint line (on a pregnancy test, ANY 2nd line is a positive – no matter how faint). It wasn’t until the day of my missed period that I got a “everyone can definitely see it” line.
I immediately called my OB’s office and told them I got a positive pregnancy test. We scheduled my first prenatal appointment for when I was 8 weeks out. I was beyond ecstatic. June 26th couldn’t get there fast enough.
On the day of my first prenatal appointment, my husband and I were excited. Since this appointment was still too early for the abdominal ultrasound wand, a transvaginal wand was used. A beautiful little heartbeat of 174bpm was found. The baby was also measuring a week behind. The doctor insisted we had nothing to worry about though. She was certain it had to do with my irregular cycles. This just meant that what we thought was a baby 8 weeks along, was only 7 weeks along. No big deal. This put our due date at February 9th, 2020. I was on cloud nine. I remarked how February 9th was a perfect date – just after the Super Bowl, but before Valentine’s Day.
We were told we’d be having appointments every 4 weeks. I couldn’t wait to see my baby again.