The Emotional Roller Coaster

Like so many parts of this crazy process, my exciting ultrasound from yesterday already feels like it was ages ago, and my next ultrasound feels even further away, even though it’s just a little more than a week from today on the 16th. Since H was out of town on business yesterday, I had to tell him the good news via a crappy cell phone connection. Originally he told me he didn’t want to hear over the phone, but by the time I got to work I already had three calls from him anxiously wondering what I had seen. It was sweet. I couldn’t say much, as I was at work, but I told him that I hoped he was okay with a 2 for 1 special and all looked as it should. He was thrilled. Really thrilled. He started thanking me he was so thrilled. It was endearing and a little scary. It sucks we had to be apart for this. He swore that nothing will come between him and the next appointment on the 16th. I hope it will be as happy.

H’s extreme positive reaction to the twin possibility was a little surprising to me, given that a few months ago he was adamant about only transferring one embryo because he didn’t want to risk complications with twins. Even though I convinced him to “do as the RE recommended and use two” at transfer, he was still worried. Now that it’s happened, he seems to have forgotten all of that. It’s not a big deal—I’m glad he’s more excited than concerned. It’s just that I’m feeling the reverse. I’ve wanted twins for as long as I’ve wanted kids. I never thought about complications because my grandmother, great grandmother, and cousin all had twins without problems. Now that I know the risks and know what it took us to get here, it’s more sobering.

A lot of people will tell me I “got what I wanted” when (if) we announce a twin pregnancy. My sister already did. (I had to tell someone other than H last night. She’s sworn to secrecy.) None of this is what I wanted, though. Twins aren’t a consolation for losing fertility. I’m still infertile. I still think like an infertile. I’ll always be an infertile. A much happier infertile with twins than without, of course, but some days, when it’s dreary like today, it’s hard not to be sad at what we had to go through to get to this point. And the extra worry I’ll carry as a result. Sorry for the rambling. It's frustrating to keep feeling such highs followed by such lows. I know, that sounds like an ad for depression. I don't think I'm depressed. Just a little worn.

On the symptoms front, food no longer really appeals to me, and I did have a few moments of very, very mild nausea earlier. I’m grazing on some healthy snacks anyhow. I’m very cranky (if you couldn’t tell from the depressed post), and I need to buy a new bra this weekend before there’s an accident from my overstretched ones exploding.