Today was the third and final beta. Another good score: 4,415. Everything remains on track.

We have our first ultrasound scheduled for Friday, July 26.

At that time, we’ll hopefully see a fetal heartbeat and learn that everything is still going well.

Twins?

Or, maybe we’ll see two fetal heartbeats. It certainly remains a possibility.

Of course, it’s impossible to say conclusively from these beta results. I saw this post at A Few Good Sperm today: she had a somewhat similar beta #3 score and discovered they were expecting twins today. (Many congratulations!). Likewise, Julia (of “Another Julia” fame) believes that we have two “popping fresh rolls” in the oven. (And, for the record, I believe everything Julia tells me, as she’s batting 1000% for us. Hint: lottery numbers next, please.)

Time will tell. Singleton or twins, we’ll be thrilled either way.

Tomorrow is beta #3. And, assuming all goes well (as one would expect), we’ll then have the first ultrasound approximately two weeks later.

The pregnancy train seems to be moving down the track.

Yet somehow I remain apprehensive. Can this be right? Like magic, it just worked? I just can’t seem to get my mind around it.

I think we’re still in shock. Here’s proof: we own zero books on pregnancy.

Knowledge is good.

Yet, we’re utterly ignorant. I can’t even make myself hit the “checkout” on Amazon.com.

This is very odd behavior… especially for us. We both love books. Indeed, I’m positively addicted: a bibliophile to the core.

I just did a quick survey: we have approximately 2,500 books in our home library on a variety of topics. We own the complete works of [insert almost any major author here]. We have “how-to” books on activities we’ve never engaged in (faux finishing!), as well as travel guidebooks on places we’ve never visited nor really ever planned to visit (example: Papua New Guinea – though I would like to go to Papua… now… behold the power of books).

Shit, I have no fewer than five (five!) books on the topic of the Irish Potato Famine!

I’ll even manufacture reasons to buy books, especially bargain books (“well, I might need to know how to build a wooden boat, starting from logs, someday”).

You get the point. It’s almost a sickness.

And, now you understand my concern. This needs to sink in. It has to start seeming “real” – something that’s actually going to happen, not just something that we hope will happen.

Yup, it’s time that we find out what to expect, now that we’re expecting.

Amazon: here I come.

L went off to the IF clinic this morning feeling a little apprehensive. Time for the next beta. And the results.

Turns out, she had nothing to worry about.

1660. That’s another strong number and a good rate of increase. What does it mean?

Most importantly, it’s indicative of a healthy pregnancy thus far. Excellent.

It could also be suggestive of twins. At least that remains a viable and perhaps increasing possibility. If that’s the case, it would be a pretty amazing outcome given where we’ve come from (to repeat: 7 mature eggs retrieved, 2 fertilized, both transferred on Day #3).

Talk about “doubling down” on the fatherhood bet.

In other news: Fertility clinics are no place for pregnant women

At our clinic, the blood collection area is setup to serve multiple patients. Today, L found herself there with another woman who was on IVF cycle #2. While doing whatever prep work is involved, it seems that the nurses were happily gushing over L’s beta score from Friday and suggesting that these follow-up betas were mostly a “formality” with such a good number out of the starting blocks.

They were also joking about how this must have pleased our RE, who’s exceedingly focused on her success statistics.

Anyway, in the midst of this convivial and congratulating atmosphere, the other patient burst into nearly uncontrollable sobs. It seems that our good news or her lack thereof was simply too much to handle this morning. L and the nurses did their best to calm and reassure her.

God knows, we could have found ourselves in the same predicament (a fact not lost on me).

In any case, it sure underscores why our fertility clinic is not a “one-stop baby shop” with services from pre-conception through delivery. Such “vertical integration” (to whip out my knowledge of marketing lingo) would seem like a natural fit, especially in such a large multi-doc practice.

However, on further reflection, I think it would be a very bad idea: pregnant women need to stay the hell away from fertility clinics.

This has been an odd weekend.

On the one hand, life has pretty much continued on status quo. Running errands. Doing chores. Even sticking L in the ass with the PIO shot. It could have been last weekend. But, it’s not.

On the other hand, it’s very different. We’re officially “pregnant.”

Obviously, we’re happy. But, it’s also a little difficult for us to comprehend. We’ve been “not pregnant” for so long. Indeed, this is one of the reasons why L decided not to POAS (pee on a stick) before the beta. Fuck the sticks. She’d never had good news from those “devices of disappointment” anyway.

Now that should all be behind us. Happy days are here again. Or, so we hope.

But, we’re a little afraid to exhale.

I wonder if this is a normal reaction: trying to get past it being “too good to be true.”

I’m writing this on the airplane, comfortably cruising along at 30-something thousand feet.

I have to say that I remain shocked, thrilled, and extremely grateful. I’m also a little nervous about what the future will hold.

In any case, let me expand on these feelings for a bit.

Shocked

L called me just as I was getting ready to head down for my car ride to the airport. I don’t recall exactly what she said… something to the effect of “it worked… blah, blah, blah… “you’re going to be a daddy…” blah, blah, blah. I was shocked… or more accurately just stunned. Stunned. L was also exceedingly calm. I think she was shocked too.

Theoretically, we knew this was possible. Yet, emotionally, we didn’t allow ourselves to go to an overly hopeful place. On balance, that was probably the right decision.

Wow. It worked.

Thrilled

Needless to say, we are both thrilled. My pleasure exists on multiple levels:

First (and most importantly), we’re closer to actually being parents.

Second, we were able to get here on the first IVF cycle (making the “shared risk program” perhaps a costly waste of resources… but a decision I don’t regret and a price I’d pay 3 times over).

Third, the IVF cycle was relatively “easy” for L – both physically and emotionally.

Fourth, we can (hopefully) move on to the next phase of our life together.

Grateful

I’m grateful for all of the items on the above “thrilled” list.

I’m even more grateful when I consider our joy in the context of fellow infertile couples. I’ve read so many stories of struggles far worse than ours. And, now, it looks like we’re getting to the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” in advance of others too. I cannot help but feel extraordinarily grateful, both for our good fortune and the fellowship of others.

I don’t know why we’re “the lucky ones” today.

We all stand on the roulette wheel of life. Sometimes, for good or bad, our number hits. There probably is no way to know “why” or at least that knowledge is beyond us.

I am, therefore, humbled and grateful.

Nervous

Not to be a downer, but… I also know joy can be fleeting.

Miscarriages. Stillbirths. Premature birth. Birth defects. And so on and so forth… all of these are now (relatively speaking) far less than likely outcomes. Nonetheless, I’m also far more keenly aware of such issues (and the associated devastation) than I would have been under “normal” circumstances. I’m just hoping for a healthy, happy bundle of joy.

I’m also worried because I now have to start transitioning from thinking about “how to become a father” to thinking about “how to be a good father.” I see this as an awesome responsibility and (in all likelihood) the most important work I’ll ever do in my life. This is daunting.

As of today, I have to start focusing on a new purpose. Holy shit!