The nurse's call not only confirmed the positive test result but also reported that the "pregnancy hormone" (hCG) had not doubled in the past 24 hours, but tripled, which was a great sign. Wonderful! She asked me to continue with the intramuscular injections of progesterone until the day of the ultrasound. Now it was time to wait, again, another 6 weeks to do the viability ultrasound.
With the good result, my head started to remember every detail of the whole path that had taken me there. I remembered the sadness I felt when I went to purchase, again, three more "samples" of the donor I had chosen but him wasn't available anymore. That would be insemination number four. Sadly, I ended up buying three copies of the donor I had chosen as a second option, but it was a second option far from the first. The third time I needed to buy the "things" from the donor, I forgot to call to check availability and bought directly from the website. Shortly thereafter, I received a call from the sperm bank telling me that what I had purchased was not available (the second option). Extremely frustrated with everything, I remember telling the woman: "Don't tell me that I will have to choose a third option ?! Do you think that choosing a donor is like choosing papaya at the farmers' market?". The poor woman, who was not to blame for anything, was so embarrassed that she went to look at who had been my first choice and, to my surprise, told me that the donor whom I chose with such affection was again available. Now the treatment was successful and with the donor of my very first choice! It was as if happiness flooded every cell in my body. Now just needed to wait. "Just"...
In the meantime, and with the result of the triple numbers of hCG, a little itch in my mind arose and I went to research on hCG levels in multiple pregnancies. Something inside me suspected that I was carrying twins.
As my parents knew that I had undergone in-vitro fertilization, I told them that this time the treatment had worked, but I still didn't tell anyone else. I decided that I would only tell family and friends after the first 12 weeks if everything went well.
When I was five weeks into the pregnancy, I woke up bleeding. Bleeding a lot. Panic! All hope and happiness looked like it was being drained through a red river that stained pajamas, sheets, mattress. I called the fertility clinic to find out what to do. As always, the call goes on the answering machine of the nurses who return to you as soon as they are available in case of an emergency or up to 48 hours later if it is not urgent. Lying on the couch, tense, I managed to wait two hours before running to the hospital. I called a taxi and went to the emergency room of the college hospital where I did my master's degree, as I knew that there I would be cared for in English, as my French was still not good enough to deal with medical issues. The friendly taxi driver wanting to start a conversation, and I could only shake with fear and think that the path to the hospital seemed endless.
Arriving at the emergency, I stood in the triage line, which didn't take long. When I was called, the nurse asked if the bleeding was filling a large pad in less than an hour, I said no. She registered me, included the description of the bleeding I gave her and sent me back to the waiting room. Six hours passed, the anguish grew, and I had not been called in yet. That's when I got the call from the clinic. They asked the same question about the pad, anticipated my viability ultrasound for the next morning in the early hours, told me to lie down and rest assured that this type of bleeding was normal at the beginning of a pregnancy. Normal... yeah, right... only if it's normal for them! At the hospital, still nothing. I went to the screening nurse and told him that the clinic had called me back, that they would do the ultrasound the next morning, and asked if he had any way of knowing if I would be seen at the hospital right away. He looked at the computer, looked me in the eyes as if apologizing for something he didn't do and said that I'd better go home and do the ultrasound at the clinic in the morning because it would still take too long there and I might have to pass the night in the waiting room. I came home with a lot of anxiety, I couldn't wait for the next morning. That night I didn't close my eyes, there was no way I could do that. The only thing that calmed me down a little was that the bleeding was almost over, but that didn't lessen the fear that my dream was gone in those several millilitres that had faded during the day.
I arrived at the clinic very early in the morning and, again, the wait seemed eternal. When I finally entered the exam room, I ran into the doctor who had given me the treatment and accompanied me during these three years. It was the first time I had an ultrasound with her. Yes, because there at the clinic, you never know who will do your ultrasound and, in almost three years, it had never been with my doctor.
I remember seeing two "dark bubbles "each with a mass inside shaped like a seahorse. She showed me and said it was the embryos, that they hadn’t left in the red flood the day before. Confirmed suspicion: twins! Happiness!!! I took a breath relieved but still tense, because we still needed to know if they were all right. She continued the exam and found a heartbeat in both. Crazy thing to think that two little things of that size already have a heart. Okay, not yet a fully developed heart with its four cavities, but it already beats. Still it is very crazy! Nature is amazing!
I left the exam, relieved and happy that they were still there, firm and strong, growing cozy inside of me. The clinic scheduled a second ultrasound for when I completed eight weeks to confirm that everything was still fine and the doctor recommended that I continue with intramuscular injections of progesterone until the end of the third month. Okay, what would be another six weeks of measuring the outer upper quadrant of the butt and do the self-application for someone who had been doing it for two months already?! She also said: "that was my fear of implanting two embryos, of you having twins as a single mother". I only replied that, after so many years, after so many unsuccessful attempts and with such tiny chances of a single embryo implanting itself, I did not imagine that the two would implant, but that I was beyond happy with this gift from the universe! She congratulated me and wished a good and "as smooth as possible" pregnancy. She gave me a hug and we said goodbye. I didn't see her after that.
I came home happy as a queen! Apprehensive, afraid of another bleeding and knowing that the verb of the hour was still: "to wait", the difference is that now the wait was full of happiness and love.
(To be continued in chapter 3.)
