Friday, 11 September 2015

Searching for Two Pink Lines

I have a confession to make.  I am an addict.  I have tried to face my issue in the privacy of my own home, but it's time to fess up.  I am addicted to home pregnancy tests.  Not just any brand, either.  First Response Early Response. 3 packs.

I think my unwholesome addiction began about 12 years ago when we began trying to have kids.  As fellow PCOS sufferers might also attest to, my cycle was erratic at best, absent at worst.  So I tested frequently to see if I might have magically, mysteriously fallen pregnant.  Obviously it didn't happen and I curbed my testing to some extent by the time I fell pregnant with Xavier.

After Xavier, my mission to feed my addiction grew.  I hide pink boxes of my favourite stuff into the house and kid them under the bathroom sink, behind the toilet, in my drawers.  I couldn't help it. When I was going through fertility treatments I tested every morning from the middle of the cycle.  I could convince myself that there was a faint line there, indicating I was up the duff.

By the time I fell pregnant with Poppy I admit things had gotten out of hand.  For the first 12 weeks of my pregnancy I tested at least once a week, sometimes more.  And then I discovered the world of digital tests!  Did you know digital tests SPELL it out for you??  Or even tell you how pregnant you are!?  I was in pee on a stick heaven!  Pee and it reminds you you are pregnant.  What could be a better rush for a fiend like me?

These days I'm learning other uses for my First Response 3 pack buddies.  IVF requires taking large quantities of synthetic HCG, which is the pregnancy hormone.  From that first shot of the good stuff, and I can watch two pink lines of various shades emerge on a small window, and for a bit of time I can pretend that I actually am.

'Tis a double edged sword is my addiction.  You see this round I have peed like never before.  Twice a day.  It's costing a fortune (Costco is the cheapest for a hit, but Big W will do at a pinch), but it's the emotional roller coaster that's costing me most.  Those two pink lines from the fake HCG?  They fade, man.  Each time I wee, the line is a shade lighter.  Until we reach the point f no return and we see if the line begins to darken again with real HCG.  That's the legit hit.  That's the real stuff.  So, here I am balanced at the precipice of lighter or darker.  I could just wait a few more days and have a blood test and I'll know one way or the other.  But the lines...I need them.  They are my life line to my dream.

I'd like to say I was motivated enough to give up the hit.  But I can't.  I enjoy the rush too much right now, and I'm hurting no one but myself.  Maybe, one day, I'll see a darkening line again.  But it's too soon to say if this will be the one.  The real deal.

My name is Bec, and it's been 14 hours since my last pee on a stick.  Oh, fine...it was an hour ago and I rushed home from work.  Don't judge until you've tried it, okay?

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