Tschin-tschin up…

The shittiest week in a long time is, I hope, over.

To recap, this is the pile of shit that’s happened since the middle of last week:

1. Migraine
   I got a migraine 5 hours after transfer. It lasted 19 hours, and I puked twice, once in the middle of the night.
2. Lead Scare
   The Thing That Couldn’t Be Written About until it was over was a lead scare. At her 2-year paediatric check-up, we had V tested for lead bc our house was built before 1978 and some of the paint is peeling. Turns out that her blood levels are probably fine, but a snafu between lab and doctor meant that the language “She’s at the level one step above non-detectable,” which although accurate, failed to mention that almost no one has a non-detectable level of lead in their blood. Lead is everywhere, it’s naturally in our environment, therefore we all have exposure. However! The house was tested, and preliminary results show that there are small amounts of lead. (In and of itself that’s not a cause for alarm. The problem is if the paint is peeling.) Thankfully, the results of the test show that the house is actually safe for V to live in, but it was terrifying to think she had been poisoned in the four months we’ve been living there. Our week has been disrupted and been very stressful. But we’ve been staying in my in-laws’ house  this week, and although it’s a lovely home and welcoming to kids, it’s not child-proof, and it’s not my home. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again tomorrow night.
   
3. Multiple BFNs with a Home Pregnancy Test
   I took four HPTs, and they were all negative. I wasn’t surprised. I was loath to say it, but I didn’t once feel pregnant. After my migraine, I thought it would have to be one really tough little embie to implant. I feel so bad. The potential for life was fucked with because of a stupid headache. I don’t know what triggered it, but it may have been food-poisoning. That’s the last time I eat out post-transfer. And then the lead-scare stress cannot have helped.
4. Beta <5
   Ironically, the good news is that my beta was so fucking low that it meant repeating the blood test isn’t necessary. At less than 5, I am categorically, unfuckwithably not pregnant. My concern was that I would be in the grey area of more than 25 (the level at which a HPT can detect pregnancy) but less than 100 (the number the clinic would like to see at the first blood draw), which would require blood being drawn once a week for up to six weeks. I feel like I dodged a small bullet there. It also means I can enjoy a glass of good cheer tonight. (This post is brought to you courtesy of my favourite cava [Spanish “champagne”].)

   And, can I get a HELL-to-the-YEAH for once again proving to everyone how in touch with my body I am? (As I explained to my darling, persistently hopeful MIL: If I knew I had placenta accreta, in spite of multiple ultrasounds and multiple doctors ruling it out, I think I can safely say when I am pregnant and when I am not…

5. January
   We can cycle again in January. UGH. I was hoping to jump right back on the bandwagon and hopefully get this TTC bullshit out the way ASAP, but the lab is closed for part of December, so we will begin again in January. I am feeling quite cross about that, but I am also happy that my sweet baby (25-year-old) sister will be here in the US for the first time since turning 21 (legal drinking age), which means I can drag her to my favourite cocktail bar when she’s here.
6. Toenail
   Some of you reading this might remember I hurt my toe hiking (too-tight shoes going downhill as I carried 30-lb V in her Beco carrier) and then dropped 1.5 lbs of Parmesan cheese on it a couple of hours later. Well, in spite of lots of blood collecting underneath, I never lost my toenail… until V kicked it off (well, 90% of it) two nights ago. The fabulous ending to my week was having it removed in a doctor’s office this evening.
7.  Other shit that has made me lose my shit when it normally wouldn’t
   a) One selfish driver crammed her massive car into a tight space, leaving me 6″ to somehow magically squeeze into my car. Then she dinged my wing mirror as she tried to back out. V was in the car at the time, but I went apeshit. Mama Bear roared!
   b) Another selfish driver took my parking space that I was waiting for (with my signal blinking). I mean, really. She was unapologetic. What is with people not taking responsibility for their shitty behaviour? This feels like a common theme this year (with strangers as well as with a former friend) and I am so over it. Lauren bellowed.
   c) My mother made some pretty insensitive remarks about family and genetics, and the only thing I know to be true is that she isn’t able to have a calm conversation about the hurtful things she has said. So, as usual, I regret sharing what’s going on with me. Lauren… brushed it aside and changed the subject.

I have had a few things which have been wonderful rays of light in this dark week. Without further ado, I share them:

1. My colleagues sent me flowers and biscuits from the UK.
2. One of my DEIVF sisters sent me flowers. They arrived on the day my house was being tested for lead. Her timing was perfect. (You are awesome and I adore you!)
3. I have a new gig which pays good money. It’s a new and wonderful feeling to be paid what I hope I am worth. Many thanks to my friend (you know who you are) for hooking me up.
4. In a year where a number of friendships have been tested, and failed, I am grateful to have a circle of incredible, strong, loving women friends. Most of these are IRL, but there are a number of online friends I include here. All hail the sisterhood!
5. My MIL shared with DH that she and I have a very special relationship. And it’s true. In a world where mothers-in-law are regularly parodied, I am so lucky to have a sweet, generous, and clever woman at my side.
6. I made chocolate. Almost equal parts cocoa butter and cacao powder (6:5) results in a melt-in-your-mouth decadent dark chocolate truffle-y thing, and this might be my Xmas present to most people.
7. V says “I love you, Mummy” regularly. This is salve for any wound, old or new.

Now excuse me while I pour myself another glass of Cava. I believe I’ve earned it.