Now I know just how appropriate the title of my blog really is.

This unexpected trip leaves my jaw unhinged!

Some big things have been happening. Good things. For example, DH and I found a lovely apartment in Long Island that has two bedrooms, a huge living room, a huge kitchen, a full bath, southern exposure, tons of windows, an attic, a basement, a washer and dryer, and a 1/3 acre shared yard where I can garden. Anyone who has lived in Brooklyn/NYC for as long as we have (fourteen years for DH, eight years for me) understands why all of that sounds palatial and fantastical, not like something that actually exists and that actual human beings get to live in.

We double-high-fived, so hard my hands stung, when the realtor left the kitchen for a moment. We stared open-mouthed at each other, then grinned. We’d found it! Our dream apartment. And it was bicycling distance from the VA! Before leaving, the downstairs neighbor let me take some basil from his little garden, and I inhaled it repeatedly during the long drive back to Fort Greene.

The town of Northport is nothing short of idyllic. Boats bobbing in the harbor. Boardwalk sunsets. Gazebo folk music. A candy shop that has been around for 107 years. A beautiful beach maybe a ten-minute drive away from our new place. Nature preserves everywhere. Big deciduous trees that lean over the roadways. Hills and winding lanes and gorgeous lush green valleys that fall away to ocean waves crashing against rocks. I joked with DH that I felt like we were on The Truman Show. Walking past the boats and watching the sun go down, DH said: “Wait–is this for real? Are we really about to start a totally pleasant life?” The subtext was: Can we have this?

We talked about what a difficult year-and-a-half we’d had, and how we had conditioned ourselves into thinking that our lives had to be hell. We expect hell. Maybe on an unconscious level we are (inaccurately) wondering if we deserve hell. But now life is showing us newness, pleasantness, ease, and hope, and we are slowly, gently, letting the goodness in…

We drove back out to the island to sign the lease, yesterday, at our realtor’s office in the town of Huntington.

Before I relate what happened yesterday, it is important for me to note what led up to it.

After laying on Hope Hathaway’s table and having that incredible vision about my children (see my last post here) I went out with DH to our favorite Fort Green restaurant to celebrate his having been offered the VA job that day. I told him, during that dinner, about my vision of our children, and by the end of the dinner, my ovaries had started aching a little. It was far too early for ovulation—I’ve had consistent Day 19 ovulation for quite some time, now—and the pain was mild and achey, very familiar to me as the “lead-up” pain to actual ovulation. But the next day, I didn’t have much pain. The day after that, woke with a tiny bit of pain, but it was still rather muted compared to what it usually is (mittelschmerz usually leaves me unable to walk very well for a couple of hours) . On Day 19, nothing happened. And nothing continued to happen. Also—I still had fertile CM. Usually that goes away as soon as I ovulate. I read online that continuing to have fertile CM long past your O date could mean that you did not ovulate. I was depressed, thinking I had not and would not ovulate, worried that this might be a harbinger of future anovulation. I’ve always O’d like clockwork and do not want that to change.

I tried to chalk it up to stress. I also crossed my fingers that my wacky cycle would work out in such a way that I would be able to be tested at our ODWU at CCRM on September 10.  If not, I’d have to either change the appointment or let DH go it alone and come back the next month for my tests!

Back to yesterday: I felt really bloated and uncomfortable, and for the first time, I wondered if I were pregnant. There is no way, I thought adamantly, knowing that DH and I have had sex only twice this month, which is extremely unusual for us, but it has been a month of crazy busyness, transitions, and so on. Also, we’d had sex very early in the month far from ovulation-day possibilities. No way. Still, I decided to pick up a test so I could look at the BFN and stop thinking about it.

We drove out to Target Rock National Wildlife Refuge, a beautiful nature preserve on an island north of Huntington. At the entrance to the hiking trail that led to the ocean, I saw the bathrooms and decided to POAS now rather than later. I stood in the bathroom stall, gazing down at the HPT on the top of the toilet-paper dispenser.

And for the fifth time since early spring of 2011, I watched that second pink line appear.


Yes. The second pink line appeared. Faintly, but it was afternoon and I’d peed many times that day. I came out of the bathroom and watched DH walk toward me. I took off my sunglasses. He saw my eyes and knew. He laughed, throwing his hand over his mouth. We both shook our heads.

We walked in stunned silence down the path toward the ocean. When we reached the lookout point, we leaned over the railing and listened to the waves. As I watched those waves, I felt my own waves of numbness, happiness, and foreboding.

DH said he was happy. I could tell that he was thinking that this was meant to be. It did seem as though universal forces had taken a very unusual swerve just for us, just to make this pregnancy happen, and at a time when our stress level over IVF finances/family involvement could not have been higher. Could it be? Could we really make our family on our own?

If this pregnancy works out, it will of course be the greatest story ever. We found out at Target Rock, the day we signed the lease on our new place. We found out just in the nick of time to save us from spending tens of thousands of dollars, to save us from going through the emotional, arduous process of undergoing IVF at CCRM. We were just about to start our new life together, when you decided to join us…

I most likely got pregnant the night of the day I had that intense vision about our children.

I so, so want to believe.

The chances of this having happened at all are so slim I feel dumbfounded. I know DH and I get pregnant like a couple of teenagers, but this is ridiculous! An accidental pregnancy, right before our first appointment at CCRM? It’s so odd being fertile in this way, and yet not having any children. Having no pregnancies carried to term. I of course want this pregnancy to be different. I want this fifth pregnancy to be our miracle pregnancy, our miraculous story.

At the same time, I am concerned that I do not feel more pregnancy symptoms, and that that second pink line is not as dark as the control line yet—I would not worry about any of these things if I hadn’t had so many losses. But I have. And I can’t undo that. I can’t go back in time. I can’t go back to a state of mind in which I feel unfettered joy and hope. All I can do is try to remain calm. Try to become comfortable with uncertainty. And allow myself to envision the best thing that can happen, happening.

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