I tested again this morning. Two different brands, two blaring positives. My first beta is on Wednesday, second is on Friday, and I'm trying to reserve excitement until after I know those results. I know more than anyone that a positive test is only the first step.
But I must admit that underneath my reserved exterior I am secretly thrilled about this. Actually I don't even think thrilled covers it, nor does elated, ecstatic, beyond grateful, or over-the-moon happy.
Yesterday I started noticing some symptoms that I am sure are related to *ahem* my condition (I'm still not quite ready to say it out loud). During the day I started noticing my breasts. Not because they were sore or uncomfortable per se, really I was just aware of them more than usual; they seemed to be large and in the way. On closer inspection yesterday evening, they are definitely bigger. Definitely. And a bit more veiny than usual. Of course my skin is like pale parchment paper - you can usually see my entire respiratory system at work. However, I definitely noticed it more last night.
By the time I went to bed, my breasts had become a bit uncomfortable and sore enough that I had trouble sleeping on my stomach. I tossed and turned most of the night. Partly because I was excited to test again, partly because I am excited about this recent development (the situation, not the boobs) and partly because I was ravenously hungry. I resisted a trip to the kitchen for a few hours and when I couldn't take it anymore, I finally had some peanut butter crackers around 3:30am. That's when I tested again.
I went out to lunch yesterday with L (7 months pregnant) and I told her the news. She gave me some really good advice that I'm going to try really hard to follow. She said: You have no control over this process. None whatsoever. Just try to relax.
She's right. All I can do is keep myself healthy, get plenty of rest, and enjoy the ride. And that, my friends, is exactly what I'm going to do.