So the story goes: Last Sunday it was a gorgeous spring day skiing. Missy was in "ski school" and for the past two weekends has not even cried when I dropped her off. She's like, "See ya, Momma. Gotta go play at the snow table." (Well, she doesn't talk in sentences yet. But if she did, the look on her face indicates that this is what she would most likely say.)
Cowboy and I are taking a break in the deck chairs, facing the late winter sunshine. I think I'm cool with this one kid thing, I thought. My child is in day care. Date day with my husband.
Which means of course that on Monday I get a BFP.
Beta for 12 (?) dpo is 327. Which seems kind of high.
Well, it might be 12 dpo. I wasn't even using CBEFM this month because I ran out of pee sticks and somehow couldn't muster the time or energy to go to the pharmacy across town that carries them.
Progesterone is 37 without prometrium. Bagged that the back half of this cycle, too.
Trying not to be freaked out.
Trying to play it cool.
Trying not to get any hopes up, despite my post from yesterday.
No one knows except for my OB and the few of you still reading this blog. I haven't even told Cowboy yet.