Pink Badge of Courage

I took a pregnancy test this morning, and I have two pink lines.

No, I am not pregnant. Yes, it is my trigger. Yes, my clinic requires us to take a test, to ensure that our bodies have absorbed the hCG and that the batch was good.

But this is the first time in my entire life I have gotten a positive pregnancy test result.

I am not delusional. I don't think that, since the trigger worked, I'm automatically pregnant. I understand that this pregnancy test is nothing more than a fancy OPK.

But fuck all that. There are TWO LINES and they are MINE. I am uncomfortable with the notion that anyone "deserves" a pregnancy or a baby. Life is simply not fair (except when it is). I wouldn't say that I "deserve" for this IVF to result in a real, live, take-home baby. But I have earned those fucking lines.

I have earned those lines through my blood. I have had five draws for this cycle (one to see if the cyst was producing estrogen, one for baseline, three for monitoring). I have had I-don't-even-know-how-many draws for my previous two cancelled cycles. And of course, the rubella titers, the chickenpox one, the HIV, chlamydia, syphilis, gonorrhea, complete blood count, pre-cycle work up. And you know what? JimDear gave blood for that too. We have both paid for this in blood.

And lord knows I have paid for this in tears. Tears over cancellation, tears from Lupron-induced nightmares and anxiety attacks, tears at an extremely painful blood draw (during a cancelled cycle, naturally), tears after holding my baby niece at Christmas and thinking "my god, this might be the closest I come to being a mom." Tears from before Thanksgiving when the doctor said, "and after the holidays..." and meant actually all of the holidays, not just the upcoming one. Tears when my husband was describing his best Christmas ever, when he secured the must-have toy (a Boo doll, from Monsters Inc.) for his own young niece years ago, because the entire story said, "THIS MAN SHOULD BE A FATHER." Tears of joy when I saw those 17 precious follicles on Tuesday morning. My husband, too, has paid for it in tears. His are more rare than mine, and thus more precious.

Sweat? Why yes. Night sweats from my insane hormone regimens. From driving down the mountain in an absolute panic on my way to the clinic straight from work, terrified of being late and thus postponed till another day, month, years. Sweat on my husband's forehead last night as he injected the hCG into my upper-outer ass, so nervous about hurting me yet needing to do it and do it right.

We have earned that second pink line, through our blood, tears, sweat, and yes, through our money. The vacations we haven't taken, the gifts we haven't bought, the corners cut. The insecurity of having a savings account with only $300 in it, when we are trying to bring a life into this world.

We have earned that line, this chance.

I did not think it would be this hard to get to this point. Nothing in our diagnoses or test results gave us any clue. The part I was worried about--fertilization--is still to come. But this part, this part is over, and I have earned my prize.

A positive.