On Wednesday I had what I could only describe as a really rubbish, rotten day. One thing after another went wrong, not least of which being the arrival of AF in the afternoon. I cursed under my breath as I wiped and found blood, and over the next couple of hours it became heavier, thick and red. I had put all thoughts of a BFP out of my head the week before. It had all felt too big and too dark to handle any longer. I was still disappointed when the witch showed up but I had expected her.
What I hadn't been expecting was that a few hours later she had almost disappeared again. The bleeding had trailed to some watery, orange spotting. I didn't know what was going on but the exact same thing happened last month; I had heavy bleeding then a day of spotting before the witch returned full-on. I thought that the same thing was going to happen again but - more out of habit than expecting to see a line - just before bedtime I got out a FRER and POAS. After all, I hadn't even had a chance to take an HPT before the witch arrived and I get really annoyed if I can't at least POAS once in a cycle.
I had no expectation of a line. I had no thoughts of seeing a positive result at all. But when I looked down I could see the faintest whisper of something, barely there at all. I had actually never seen a line so light. I thought maybe it was an indent line, but it didn't look like one. I was pretty sure I was seeing things but just to be sure I took out a cheapy and dipped it.
The line that came up was a little darker than the FRER. I started to shake and my heart began racing. No matter which way I turned the tests I could still see the line. I remember thinking to myself that maybe that's how you tell if there's truly a line or not - if you have to turn it every which way to see the line then it's probably not a BFP, but if you turn it every which way and you can still see it then maybe it's truly there.
I had one blue dye test left. Now, I am happy to call them my nemesis. I have waged war against them. But if it was going to give me a prettier line and more certainty that I was seeing a BFP then it would be worth it. So I dipped my Clearblue Easy and waited. I could see a cross start to appear very quickly, although bizarrely the result seemed to fade instead of get darker. Nevertheless, as the dye moved over the test a very faint line remained.
I was in a state of shock as I crawled into bed. I'd gone in the space of 12 hours from bemoaning the arrival of my period to seeing what looked like very faint lines on some tests. I couldn't believe it. In fact, I genuinely doubted my eyes. When the next morning came I took another FRER and got a line about the same as the one the night before. I was 9DPO now and the last FRER I saw at 9 DPO was much darker. Now my hopes were sinking again and I could feel another chemical pregnancy about to happen.
I spent the morning in a daze, torn between wanting to tell my husband so much and not wanting to tell him until I knew for sure that I wasn't just going to lose it again. I have seen too many lines fade away before they have a chance to get darker. Getting a BFP doesn't bring the same joy that it did before I knew what it was like to lose a pregnancy. There is joy, of course, but the fear is overwhelming.
I took another FRER in the early afternoon and the line was no different, no darker. I started to go crazy, and by now I was certain that there would be no good news ahead. I began to drive myself mad until in the end I wondered if the FRERs were bad and although it seemed unlikely I set off to the shops to buy my new test of choice: a Predictor. Now, Predictor seems to be a European test. It used to be far more widely available, now I can only find them in one shop. I bought one and set off straight to the toilets in the shopping centre. I'd only been holding for a couple of hours, which I realised too late as I was already watching the dye head across the test.
I have never felt such a swell of joy and love sweep through me to see the colour pink appear before my eyes. It was the most beautiful line I had ever seen.
I felt like I was on a high as I set off for home. Now I was starting to believe that this could be a sticky bean. A pale FRER started to get me worried again that night, as did the negative digi the next morning. In fact, getting a negative digi at 10DPO made me start to think that maybe this wasn't a sticky bean after all. I weas on the verge of tears most of the day.
But later on I took one more FRER and the line had made a bold leap. I couldn't believe how clear the line was now, and so I took my courage in both hands (well, maybe in one hand, I had an HPT in the other) and took a digi just before bed.
I finally got to see that word again.
Pregnant.
It was the most beautiful word in the English language.
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