December 10th

Last year at this time, I was on my 2nd round of Clomid, but was completely sure that it hadn't worked. I had no physical signs of ovulation, none of the ovulation tests I took had come back positive, and even a blood test at the doctor's office showed that my progesterone was too low to be indicative of ovulation. However, I had also been charting. My chart showed an immediate increase in temperature after November 30th, which is indicative of ovulation, usually.

So December 10th of last year, I took a pregnancy test. Yes, 10 days past ovulation. I must've been crazy. That's 4 days before my period was supposed to start. Well, the test was negative. I figured it would be, so with some sadness, I threw it away and went to drown my sorrows in a few hours' worth of trashy TV, knowing full well I'd take another the next day.

For some reason, I went back and looked at the test again that night. Wait, a second line? How's that possible? I got on the trusty internets and looked at peeonastick.com and read all about evaporation lines. Yes, there's a reason you shouldn't look at a pregnancy test past the 10 minute time limit.

My obsession was such that I just had to make sure and I peed on a second strip. (I got a ton of 'em cheap on eBay.) I waited a few minutes, used a super bright light and probably burned up a little bit of my eyes' lifespan, but I spied a second line there. Completely screwing any chance of telling my husband in a creative way, I shouted, "BABY! Come here and look at this!!" He confirmed the second line. I took a non-eBay, slightly more dependable pregnancy test (okay, I got those regular price at CVS), and there was definitely a second line there. I peed a lot that day. I walked into the kitchen, shaking my head, hands on my hips, looked at Drew incredulously, and said "I think I'm pregnant."

Know what sucks a whooole lot about pregnancy loss? You just can't be excited when you get pregnant again. Even though I had lost my baby in 2004 and had been trying hard since May to get pregnant, I was not excited. I was terrified, and sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would lose my baby.

My mom came over that night, and I told her. She immediately started crying, and I begged her not to get excited. I told her because I needed her support in what was absolutely inevitable - the loss of this baby.

I called my doctor the next day. She explained that I had ovulated later than expected, and that's why the blood test didn't work. Of course, since my last pregnancy was ectopic (a potentially life-threatening condition), I was brought in the next day to start blood tests to ensure that my pregnancy hormone was doing the right thing (the pregnancy hormone has to double in 48 hours to indicate a normal pregnancy). The blood tests were completely normal, so to rule out an ectopic 100%, I was brought in a few weeks later for an ultrasound. I'm so, so thankful to my doctor for her attentiveness - many doctors wait till a woman is nearly 3 months along before they'll do anything with her. Not my doctor - she put my mind at ease immediately.

My first glimpse of Ace was amazing. He was super duper tiny (obviously) and still attached to a yolk sac, and looked like a diamond ring. I asked the sonographer several times if he was in my uterus, and she said yes. Then she turned on the speakers and I heard his heart beating. People, I was only 6 weeks into my pregnancy, and I heard my baby's heart beating. If I looked really closely, I could see it blinking on the screen, too.

So one year ago today, I met Ace for the first time. He was only a line on a stick, and now he's my precious little boy. Crazy.

Also, today, the 2 cartons of milk in my refrigerator expire. I have a LOT of milk to drink today.

And it's my ex co-worker's birthday. I don't know how I can always remember his birthday and several other birthdays of people I hardly even talk to anymore, but have a rough time remembering my very close friend Ringo's birthday. The memory, she is a strange thing.