Pregnancy tests are a cruel joke.

I couldn't sleep that night after the positive test. Neither of us could. We stayed up and talked about how we wanted to tell everyone, when we wanted to tell them, fun ways to announce it on Facebook, and all kinds of things. We had already started our name list, so we talked about that more, too! I couldn't believe it at all. The more I thought about it, the scarier the reality became. I felt like we had been trying so long, focusing on finding that victory, and now I didn't know what to do with it. A whole new set of fears set in.

The next morning, after a tiny bit of sleep, I got up for work. It was Monday morning, and I was too excited to think about anything work-related. I got out of the shower, and peed on another stick just because I wanted to see that beautiful word again. It was 6:15am.

NOT PREGNANT

I panicked. I woke Bobby up and panicked to him, too. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't bleeding. Did that mean I miscarried sometime in the last 8 hours?? I didn't know what was going on. Bobby just told me to stay calm and call the doctor first thing. So, at 8:00am on the dot, I called and left a "frantic lady trying to speak as calmly as possible" message for the nurse. Like I said before, they were well-aware of our situation, so I knew she'd call me back as soon as she could. About an hour later, she called and asked me to come in for bloodwork. Forty-five minutes later, I was in the chair with a needle in my arm. The next few hours were agony, waiting for a phone call about the results. I just wanted to know, one way or the other. Just give me an answer. When you are going through all of this, (and if you are, you'll know what I'm talking about here), ALL you want is a definitive answer. Yes or no. So when Beverly called back, you can imagine my frustration when she said, "Well, Kelli, you're technically pregnant, but the levels are so low that Dr. Reshef is worried you might have a tubal pregnancy. He wants you to come back for more bloodwork in a week, and if your levels go up, we'll go from there." What the fuck does that mean?? Am I pregnant? Can I be excited yet? Now, all I'm doing is worrying, because I know an ectopic pregnancy can kill you. That's not an answer, Beverly. Not one that I wanted, anyway.

So, I went back a week later. And then again a few days after that. And then again the next week. The levels were rising, but still REALLY low. My progesterone was low, too, which I know can actually CAUSE a miscarriage, so I argued with them at each visit about putting me on a supplement, but Dr. Reshef kept saying no because he didn't want to encourage growth in a tubal pregnancy, if it was a tubal pregnancy. My thought was, "What if it's a viable baby and you are causing problems by not giving me the supplement!?!" I still got a "no". Ugh. And then, I had to tell them we were going on vacation that Saturday and would be out of town for a week and a half. I told them we were going to New Orleans, because I was afraid to tell them we were going on a 7-day cruise. I was a nervous wreck. What if I miscarried on a cruise ship?? Or in a foreign country?? We still didn't know if it was tubal or not, so I had a hard time debating whether or not to go at all.

But we went. We had a great time in New Orleans for a few days with family, and then headed to the Carnival Terminal to board. We got checked in, and were waiting in line to get on the ship. I had to pee, so I ran to the bathroom. BLOOD EVERYWHERE. I just sat there and cried. What do I do now?? My entire family is getting on this ship and I'm terrified to move. I sat there for about 10 minutes and composed myself and then walked back out. Everyone was still waiting in the holding area, and I knew Bobby and my mom saw my face and immediately knew something was really wrong. I told them I was bleeding, and that I was going to go ahead and get on the boat. That was a hard decision. I was a hot mess that whole first afternoon/evening. We got on the boat, got our luggage, got settled, and then the bleeding stopped. THANK YOU LORD. I still didn't know what had happened. Was that a miscarriage? I'd never had one, and I knew it was still early, so was that it? This vacation wasn't going to be a vacation at all, it seemed.

Luckily, the rest of the week was fine. We stopped in Roatan, Cozumel, and Belize, and I gotta tell you: skip Belize, go straight to Roatan. It's AMAZING.

We got back from New Orleans late that following Sunday, and I had made another appointment for an ultrasound for the following day. Dr. Reshef had told us that by then, the pregnancy would be big enough that we'd be able to see where it was. If it was in the tube, then we had a big problem. If it was in my uterus, then BAZINGA. Bobby was in training that whole next week, so my mom offered to go with me.

FINALLY, an answer. We had a baby growing, with a good heartbeat already, and were only technically a little over 6 weeks pregnant. I sent the video to Bobby's cell phone, and he stepped out of his training class to watch. I love happy news. I needed that happy news. I couldn't have been more excited.