10w and – HOLD UP

double checks math

verifies by calculator

pulls out calendar to verify

Holy crap, it appears that I am officially one-quarter way through this pregnancy. That just doesn’t seem right, but the calendar insists that it is. I blame work (for keeping me so busy I hardly know what day of the week it is) and those weird extra four days that seemed to bring everything to grinding halt (because now that I’m in “regular” weeks, they feel so fast).

So I suppose it’s time for a little pregnancy check-in! Lucky you; thanks for stopping by.

So first up, the nausea actually seems to be lifting for the most part (obvious exception being the whole stomach bug/food poisoning thing from over the weekend, that was rough). I can now usually get through the day without any nausea, although it does still crop up after dinner time on occasion. I don’t even have to snack all the time in order to prevent it. So yay! Maybe I actually won’t gain 13 pounds in the first trimester this time!*

Honestly, most of my first trimester symptoms are lifting. Fatigue isn’t catching me as routinely. The hunger isn’t striking as much. The aversions are settling down (perhaps I’ll actually get to eat some chocolate soon). The bloat is settling down a bit too. Though with the appearance of the bump, I could easily pass for four-months along when the bloat does kick in…. which is kind of becoming a problem. (We’re supposed to hang out with friends at their pool this weekend and I’m probably just gonna tell them I’m pregnant since there’s no hiding this lovely physique.)

Speaking of, I know that it’s usually a joke that women who are pregnant for the second time around show earlier. You know, because our abs are all stretched out and we still have pooches and pouches and other really nice things like that. And yeah, it’s true. Even without bloat, I’ve got a clear protrusion (though no one who sees it is gonna think “awe, it’s a baby!” right now – they’re probably just gonna be like “awe, Belle’s let herself go!”). BUT. All jokes aside, I’m actually really happy about it. Maybe my abs are more stretched out, idgaf. You know what’s nice? Not taking two bites of my dinner and instantly feeling like I’ve eaten too much. You know what else is nice? Not being insanely uncomfortable all because your abs are straining to keep everything exactly in place. The fact that my body’s been through this before – that it “remembers” what’s coming – has really made me so much more comfortable through this first trimester.

New this time around: everyone talks about how weepy and emotional pregnant ladies get. However, for this pregnancy, I find myself getting intensely nostalgic. Everything from music (remember the first weekend we spent together Luffy!) to Google Maps (man that vacation I took to DC a decade ago was amazing – I felt so vibrant and alive! I should go back!) gets me going. It’s charming and a little baffling.

Also, technically qualifying for “new this time,” I don’t want to alarm anyone with BRAND NEW INFORMATION, but I have a child. The dumpling. He’s 2.5 and he keeps me on my toes. And, I really think he’s helped this first trimester sail by. I remember being pregnancy obsessed when I was pregnant with him. It’s all I could think about, read about, or talk about (at least with Luffy… poor Luffy). This time though, the dumpling’s still my primary focus and the pregnancy (and still sorta hypothetical second child) is the after thought. Except for popping the prenatal vitamins and suffering through the nausea, I’d probably completely forget I am pregnant.

In other things I totally forgot about: ok, so this one is a little crazy. I’d be skeptical if I were you too, so don’t feel bad. Remember how I first felt the dumpling move when Jas laid across my abdomen? I was 16 weeks exactly, which was on the early side for fetal movements as a first-time mom, but I figured Jas compressed everything and let me feel them better. Anyway, same thing as been happening this past week! Isn’t that crazy?! At not even 10 full weeks along, I’ve felt it twice now. Always in the evening. Once when I had my knees pulled up towards my chest (I was basically curled into a ball on the couch) and once when Jas laid across my abdomen. I know it seems unlikely; I mean the baby is the size of a grape! But it’s in the right spot – low, down closer to my pubic bone than belly button (where all my intestines are currently hanging out. apparently. ewe.). I’m doubting myself too, but I’m still just gonna put a digital post-it on this week by mentioning it.


*Confession time: with all my early weight-gain fears from last time (which I remember vividly), I had it in my mind that I had gained a ton of weight my first trimester. Like 13 pounds, as I quoted up there. It lined up with the mental image I had in my head of myself – all squishy and bloated – and my mental timeline of the pregnancy.

But. I just pulled up an old excel chart I made (right around the time I freaked out about gaining no more weight until I was 20 weeks) and I discovered that my memory is off. Way off. I kind of feel bad for being so critical on myself back then. I gained a perfectly reasonable 4.5 pounds in the first trimester. I crossed over the 13-pounds-gained mark at precisely half way through my pregnancy, which is obviously completely different from the way my memory shows it. Crazy how we do that to ourselves.

I’m curious to see what my weight gain will be like this time. I feel smaller this time around. Before I opened that spreadsheet, I thought my numbers would come in lower this time around. I’ve actually already gained 4.5 pounds (and by only 6.5 weeks to boot!). I did start off three pounds lighter, so I’ll be interested to track both the change (how much weight I’ve gained) and the total (how heavy I am). Stay tuned! I know you’re excited.

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Oh right, this

Uh…. hello? Sorry for the impromptu hiatus there. Let’s all take a second to dream about the island vacation I could have been on ….. instead of what I was actually doing: work, work, work, work, potty training disasters, and stomach bug/food poisoning. I would have definitely taken the vacation instead, had someone asked me in advance.

So let’s recap the week.

I won’t bore you with work meetings and trainings and whatnot, except to say that I had a very big, official meeting to go to Tuesday. I wore a suit and joked with Luffy the day before that my bump would be perfectly discreet under the suit. Ha! It was not. I definitely looked pregnant. I’m just hoping no one noticed. Especially since half the office decided to celebrate being done with the big, official meeting by organizing a happy hour. I fully planned on doing the whole order from the waitress, then catch her, tell her the deal, have her change my drink thing, when I realized that the chosen bar was tiny. Tiny! There was absolutely no way I could do that without it being 100% obvious. I mean, the waitress placed our orders on a terminal four steps away from the table. So, I went to the bathroom, which was conveniently located by the bar, and ordered directly from the bartender. It was still probably a little obvious, given I brought my drink back AND I was having “vodka” when I am a whiskey girl at heart and my coworkers know it (and should I mention this bar was an Irish pub? Vodka was definitely out of place.)

I’m not too concerned because I definitely think this is one of those times when you feel like everyone in the world is watching you and can see through you and, in reality, no one does. Also, my next ultrasound is just a couple of weeks away at this point. I’ll announce after then, so meh. They can think what they want for a couple of weeks.

One other humorous anecdote from the work situation: I was in all-day trainings on Thursday and Friday. This means catered lunches. I am typically a very healthy eater at lunch (I know I’ve talked about that before), opting for the salad instead of chips for instance. After almost six years at my office, everyone knows this about me. So after one of the partners “caught me” eating chips on Thursday and having a mini bundt cake on Friday (jokes on him! I had TWO mini cakes), he commented that it was a new Belle! My silent rebuttal was “no, it’s just a pregnant Belle.”


News from the front lines of potty training: the white flag has been raised.

My lands, people, I don’t think a single parenting issue has ever caused me so much anxiety. Part of it, admittedly, is likely fueled by pregnancy hormones, but still. I swear I never wanted to write any of this down, but I feel compelled to now because I feel so alone in this. Perhaps it will be a comfort to someone else, who spends half their night googling potty training issues because they can’t sleep.

So when we last left the topic, hopes were high as the dumpling had had moderate success at school on Friday. I glossed over last weekend, but suffice to say we bore witness to more than a few potty-related tantrums and meltdowns. Our successes at home were more about lucky timing than anything else. So it didn’t surprise me that, when I picked him up Monday, his teacher told me he was using the pull-ups as a diaper – they were holding him back. She wanted him back in underwear only. I explained that he’d been sick over the weekend and we agreed to give pull-ups another shot on Tuesday. However, same deal on Tuesday – pull-ups were holding him back. She wanted him back in underwear only. So we did.

He had an accident at school in the afternoon (though he’d been successful earlier that morning). He had another accident when I was there picking him up. That was just bad luck; the potty was already in use. I knew he had to go in the car – knew it – so I told him that yeah, we could totally do x, y, or z after he used the potty. I got him home, got him in the bathroom, and he freaked. Kicking, crying, screaming, arching. I couldn’t even pull his pants down because the second I got them down an inch, he was hitching them up. So I backed off; let him run out of the bathroom. He cried out for me literally seconds later and I came around the corner to find he had peed a lake across the living room floor.

Twenty minutes later, another puddle. Thirty minutes after that, another puddle (all over me, as he was sitting in my lap at the time). I wasn’t even anticipating it, given the timing. Clearly he had been holding it all. day. long. But what’s more, before the third time, there wasn’t even a warning. No potty dances*. No silence or stillness. Nothing. Just a warm dampness seeping down my legs.

Wednesday was probably my low point. I felt so guilty for putting him through all of this. What’s made this especially hard is trying to figure out if he’s just not ready, or if we waited too long and just need to power through. Plus, he had some successes! Our first weekend went ok. He finally used the potty at school! Was that worth giving up? And what would happen if we give up now? Is he going to remember this and know that, when we try again, he can just protest for a couple of weeks and we’ll stop? Did we make this harder on ourselves by starting and stopping?

Hell if I know.

As if I didn’t feel supremely anxious and guilty about all of this anyway, his teacher at school seemed to take it as a personal affront. Thankfully Luffy was the one who broke the news to her that we would be putting a pin in potty training at home. I say thankfully because Luffy said she seemed kind of pissed about it and I probably would have cried. I do think she realized she’d made a mistake though because she did an about-face on Friday afternoon when I picked the dumpling up, assuring me that she’d still take him if he asked and let him try and that yes, it should absolutely not be a fight (when I tried to describe to her what we were facing at home) and that he’s still young in the grand scheme of things.

So as we stand now, I have no idea if we’ve completely bungled this process and are facing an infinitely harder challenge in the future. I’m doing a very weird thing in that I’m actually reminding my preschooler that he can pee in his diaper. We’re leaving the choice of pull-ups or diaper to him (another mistake? only time will tell! weeeee!). But, what I can tell you is that an invisible though tangible weight has been lifted from the dumpling’s shoulders. Over the weekend, he was his happy self again – a self we haven’t seen since we started this process two weeks ago. We talked about how Luffy and I were proud of the progress that he’d made, but that we could see he was putting a lot of pressure on himself and that we didn’t want that. We talked about how we’d try again later. He seemed to get it. Only time will tell how all of this will end.


And lastly, my apologies if you’ve made it this far because this update is not at all pleasant (this coming from the woman who just spent … scrolls back up to countholy word vomit Belle … seven paragraphs talking about potty training). This wasn’t a great health weekend for the adults of the household. Luffy woke up Saturday with stomach pain. While it never developed into much, gastrointestinal-wise, he did spend five hours sleeping during the day and felt achy and weak when he was awake.

I felt perfectly fine until about 4:00 Saturday afternoon, when a knot began developing in my stomach. I will spare you the details, but my issues did lead to more than a few agonizing minutes of bowing to the porcelain thrown. It gave me enormous empathy for all the pregnant women out there who are throwing up because, dang, is it ever hard to put a preschooler to bed when you keep dashing off to puke.

I slept fitfully Saturday night and awoke Sunday to a stomach that was feeling better-ish. Fatigue hit me hard though and I – me, THIS PERSON – took two naps on Sunday. Thank god for Luffy because if I had been primary point person for the dumpling on Sunday, it would have been a long day of TV. Instead, they went to the park and brought me soup for lunch and bananas for a snack. My sweet boys.

I feel mostly better today and we’re all caught up now!

Oh thank god she’s done talking.

What’s that?

Cough, nothing.


One hilarious side-effect of talking to the dumpling about all this potty related business – you know how you do, all of a sudden I’m talking about how I need to go potty now! I feel like I need to pee! Pee! Potty! Everybody potties! Hooray poop! Anyway, we started telling the dumpling that we could see him doing the potty dance (typically when he knew he needed to go, but would tell us that he didn’t want to go).

On Saturday, in the car, he wanted to keep driving around and I told him that we needed to go home because I had to pee. I heard this gem from the backseat:

“Are you doing the potty dance mama?”

Ha! Yes child, I am doing the potty dance.

Updates you might not have wanted

Oddly, all of my updates today revolve around a certain small person’s bodily functions. So. My apologies, in advance. But you know. Not sorry enough to not talk about it. Poor you.

About the same time I published my post Friday, we got a notification on our daycare app that the dumpling had peed in the potty.

WAT THA WAT?!

We actually called the school, to confirm. Had he truly peed in the potty? We wanted to make sure in case his teachers left before we arrived. He had! Huzzah! Yay dumpling!!

A half hour later, we picked up an exuberant dumpling. He was so proud of himself. His teachers were proud of him too. Apparently, he had pulled both teachers into the bathroom to show them his success. Yay dumpling!

We still struggle at home though. He does this thing where he has to go. Has to. And yet, he won’t. He’ll say he needs to, run in there, then change his mind. I know he’s learning his body, testing just how long he can truly go. The frustrating thing about it though is that he waits so long, he has trouble going. Plus, during the 90 minute drama, he has a horrendous attitude and (if I may be selfish here for a minute) it gets damn frustrating dropping everything to run him to the potty, only to find he’s changed his mind and refuses to go, and then we repeat the whole thing two minutes later.

The solution to this would, I think, be to institute regular potty breaks. Every hour he has to try or something like that. Our issue there is that if he’s not the one to start the process, he REFUSES to sit and try. He will freak out on you. I even bought a little timer. It’s one of those that you twist to set and it visually shows how much time is remaining. I showed it to him, said it was his potty party timer and that when it goes off, it is time to use the potty. This backfired hilariously on me though. Every time it went off, he would tell me “no, it’s not time” and reset the timer for the full 60 minutes it allows. So we basically just had a timer going off at our house every hour.

Sigh.

I swear this kiddo is too smart for his own good. Probably too smart for mine too.


Mother’s Day this year was a bit of a bust. Luffy had grand plans that revolved 100% around eating (hey, I’m pregnant, can’t exactly ply me with champagne as per usual). Kolaches for breakfast! Chinese food for lunch! Luffy’s now-signature lemon pasta with scallops for dinner! Nom!

And then, I heard the dumpling cry out at 5:30 Sunday morning. By the time I made it back to his room, he was quiet again. But. He had done the same thing at 11:45pm earlier the same night. I hadn’t gone in then either. This time, I paused outside his door, listening to him take a drink of water, or so I assumed by the muffled gurgle. I decided to check on him anyway, hoping to tuck him in and head back to bed again. I opened his bedroom door and was hit with a wall of stench. Oh dear god.

I didn’t even mess around with trying to keep his room dim; I went right to the lamp and turned around to survey the damage. Which turned out to be extensive. Two puddles of sick amidst the tangle of blankets and stuffies and books and toys. One preschooler sitting in a stained zippy, blinking groggily at me.

If there is one thing that I’m proud of as a mother, it’s my reaction to things like this. Very similar (though obviously not as life-threatening) to that horrible night when I knew exactly what to do, I didn’t hesitate at all yesterday morning. I briefly thought about going to wake Luffy, but then quickly decided to take an alternate course. I pulled the dumpling out of the mess and unzipped him from the unspeakable zippy. I took him to the bathroom to wash his hands and face, changed his jammies in his room, got him to sip some water, and ascertained that his favorite stuffy, kitty, was at least clean enough to go with him. I grabbed a towel and took him to the guest bed. He was adorably excited when I tucked him into the big bed, with kitty by his side, and told him I was going to clean his room.

And clean I did. Nearly everything went into the washer on the sanitation setting, including several stuffed animals. I cleaned books and toys and the crib itself. The room stank to high heaven and I turned his air purifier up and the fan on. It would take almost a full seven hours before his room smelled neutral again. Later in the day, I would vacuum his room and spot clean the carpet. I also gave us both a shower, after we had some time to wake up. But once I finished with the primary cleaning, I joined him on the guest bed to at least pretend to rest until the sun rose.

The rest of the day went pretty well. Our big food plans went out the window, of course, but he seemed in good spirits. He was exhausted by the end of the day and had almost zero appetite the entire day (we did manage to get him to eat watermelon by evening). He went to bed early and was asleep almost before we closed his bedroom door. Thankfully he was starving this morning, so I hope we’re in the clear. We still have no idea if this was just a brief stomach bug or if he ate something bad. It’s unlikely that he did since we ate all the same foods Saturday. A stomach bug does seem to be making it’s way around DFW right now, but I’m trying to believe it’s not that because I accidentally shared a spoon with him on Sunday and I want to believe that I’m not going to get sick*.


And now for the only update that doesn’t involve bodily functions, my belly officially popped on Saturday.

I know! I’m freaking out too. At just 8 weeks and a few days along, it’s far too early to have a mini-belly. Right? Right.

And yet. Saturday evening as we were picking up dinner (Chick-fila at my request), I felt a tight constricting around my lower abdomen. Not a cramp, not a Braxton Hicks contraction. Something else. The tightness subsided by the time we made it home and I thought nothing of it until I realized later that night that my lower abs were pushed out. I’ve still got plenty of squish under my belly button, thanks to four pounds gained so far, but just under that is quite firm and distended.

Welcome little bean! Glad to see you!


* I find it truly bizarre that, as a parent, I am inordinately comforted by the thought that even should I contract a stomach bug, at least I’ll be able to puke in a toilet. You truly don’t realize how much of a blessing that is until you have to clean vomit from a stuffed lion’s mane.

8w and updates

I’m finally 8 full weeks along (as of yesterday)! Hooray! Those extra four days really made it seem like an eternity between six weeks and eight. But I made it! Double hooray!

How am I doing, you ask? Oh you didn’t say anything? Well, that’s ok, I’ll answer your question anyway.

This past weekend, on Saturday in particular, in the midst of potty training shenanigans and putting on a totally-not-pregnant face for neighbor parties, I suddenly realized that I felt great. No fatigue. No nausea. Woo! By the next morning though, I was worried. Perhaps I felt too great. What if I wasn’t pregnant anymore? Did I feel just a bit too good for not even eight weeks along? You know, typical pregnancy paranoia.

I needn’t have worried. While I was in the office on Wednesday, I seriously thought I’d have to leave my desk at lunch because my coworker had the audacity to bring in stir-fried broccoli and rice. GAG. And today, the nausea started at 11am and hasn’t really lightened up at all, even with eating. So yeah. Think I’m still pregnant.

New this time around: Besides this new and “improved” nausea, I am oddly not as bloated this go around. Like, I’m seriously perplexed because I remember being so, so, so uncomfortably bloated last time. And this time? Seriously, on Tuesday, I took another round of “bumpie” photos and I look perfectly normal. I’m not entirely sure why I seem to be lacking some of the bloat, but I’m more than pleased about it.

In other things I totally forgot about: The burping! I may not be showing the bloat, but – my lands – is there ever more gas going on in there. I’m burping left, right, and center. And not the harmless little oh I’m drinking something fizzy burps. These things are disgusting. I’d hate them, except that I usually feel better after a round of them. Gross.


Yesterday was fun. And by fun, I mean expensive and infuriating.

I went to get more stickers for our current potty-trainer. I was in the store for less than five minutes (seriously, the stickers are at the front and the check-out line was open, so zip!). As I came around the side of my car, I heard an unusual hiss. What on earth is that? I asked myself, turning around to inspect my car.

To my horror, the hissing was air leaking out of my tire, thanks to a literal bolt protruding from the side wall. Are you freaking kidding me?! How does that even happen. Even the garage guys were impressed with my feat.

I’m thankful I was only in the store for a few minutes, since it was literally deflating by the minute. I was able to drive it across town to our usual shop where they promptly replaced it to the tune of $250. Apparently, I have expensive tires. Yay.


And now for the update you were probably wondering about: we’ve decided to put a bit of a hold on potty training.

Despite the success the dumpling had over the weekend and the astounding control he seems to possess, he hasn’t made appreciable progress in a week. And what’s more, I get the feeling we’re actively hurting the process. I don’t want to go into too many details, but yesterday was a very, very bad day for the little dude. He was in a lot of pain and it was completely because we were trying to potty train.

So! Despite all the resources out there harking bootcamp style potty training and all the experts that say it’s an all-or-nothing thing, we’re gonna adopt a much more laid-back approach. He’ll wear pull-ups at daycare, though they’ll still include him in the potty break rituals. We hope this will help him get used to the potty at school while ensuring that he’s not holding his bowels/bladder for days on end.

At home, we’re actually gonna base our approach on him. He has been asking to use the potty and to wear his underwear. If he continues to do so, we’ll continue to support him. If he doesn’t ask anything of the sort, we’ll back off.

I know a lot of kids probably respond well to the bootcamp style of training, but our little dude just seemed to place so much pressure on himself. And it especially wasn’t fair of us to send him to school in underwear knowing that he couldn’t pee in the potty, even if he was on it and could feel he needed to go. That’s just setting him up for failure.

So, we’ll take a bit of a break. I know we’re not gonna scar him for life by potty training him, but I’ve also missed my sweet little boy this week. He’s been stressed and lashing out and I can’t really blame him.

A worried mama, day two

aka: a worried mama, now with tears.

Oh my sweet boy.

He didn’t pee in the potty at school at all yesterday. He had an accident at 3pm (in which I’m told he cried for Luffy and I) (what’s that sound? oh it’s the sound of my heart shattering). He peed in the potty for Luffy’s parents at 7pm. And… that’ it.

Two pees, the entire day.

He didn’t pee in his overnight diaper and we couldn’t get him to go before he went to school this morning. Getting him dressed for the day was a disaster that took both Luffy and I and I dropped a tearful little boy off at school far later than intended since we had hoped to take him to school after he peed at home. Instead, he had an accident at 10am.

And I literally just got another notification from school: Potty Accident, 3:27pm.

My pregnant-hormoned fueled self can’t take this. My heart is breaking for him and I want so badly to call the whole thing off.

But. The fact that he’s holding it for so long. The fact that he asks (eventually) to take his diaper off in the morning to try to go potty. The fact that he tells me when he needs to go. That tells me that he’s ready for this. He just needs time to learn to relax and let it happen.

I wish I knew a way to help him. I’ve read tons of tips. We’ve tried blowing bubbles and pinwheels. We’ve tried dipping his hand in warm water. We’ve tried reading books. We’ve tried having him watch a TV episode. He gets stickers for successfully going and praise for trying. We’ve tried going outside (which worked the first day). I made him a calm jar this afternoon – a bottle full of clear glue and glitter. It’s a common calm-down technique for tantrums, but can help get little kids to relax.

The one thing we haven’t tried is pouring warm water over him, but I’m not too sure I want to do that. He doesn’t really like water being poured over him in the bath and I’m concerned he’d end up being scared by it.


I don’t really have a conclusion to all of this. I never meant to put so much of the potty training business out there. It’s just weighing so heavy on me right now that I can’t ignore it. I had so badly hoped we’d be one of those families that, when asked about potty training, could answer “oh yeah, it was a couple of rough days, but it honestly went really well!” I mostly just feel like it’s been a disaster and so rough on my little boy.

A worried mama

I dropped the dumpling off at school today, wishing so badly that I could stay with him. We did indeed start potty training over the weekend and he did well, all things considered.

But oh did he pull on my heartstrings this morning when he asked me if he could stay home. I worried aloud to Luffy just last night, about what sort of day he’d have today at school, so I was probably just projecting my worries on to the dumpling. Still though. My sweet, sweet boy. He asked to wear his jammies to school today and we compromised (jammie shirt, regular shorts). I figured he’d need the comfort.

He seemed to proud to be at school, sans diaper. His teacher, though, seemed surprised that we’d brought him without one. Perhaps she didn’t think we’d have the nerve? I mean, I don’t know how other people potty train, but what’s the point of making a big deal about taking off the diaper if I’m just going to put a diaper back on him every time we leave the house? Right? Gotta start somewhere.

And while I anxiously await being reunited with him at the end of the day, our app keeps me updated. He’s attempted to go three times. The last picture we received, at 10:05, shows him in the same clothes I dropped him off in. A small bit of progress I suppose.

I hope he does ok. My sweet, sweet boy.

Part of me knows that this reaction is overblown, probably fueled by pregnancy hormones and a maternal desire for your child to have good days. I hate the thought of him being stressed at school, trying so hard to “relax” and then having an upsetting accident. Luffy reminded me that he probably won’t even be all that upset by an accident at school; he’s likely seen other kids have accidents. My little boy certainly does get upset about peeing on the floor though. He offered me countless praises over the weekend for cleaning up messes (good job mama! thank you mama!) and would helpfully point out every wet spot.

At the end of the day, I know he’ll be ok, but I can’t help but picture his little face like he was last night – sitting in my lap, giggling over the bunny that goes *sniff sniff sniff* by his ear – looking so innocent and happy. My sweet, sweet boy.

A mini comparison

I realized last week, when I was blathering on about how much more or less positive my pregnancy tests were/are, that I could simply show you guys. It never occurred to me, but yes, I do still have all the pictures. (I do delete all of the negative ovulation test pictures, lol, but I like having the pics of the positive pregnancy tests.) So! It’s time for a little comparison post!

Below, we have my very first positive pregnancy test:

It was taken at 11 DPO. It’s faint, but there, and the line would progressively get darker. (I seem to have shown remarkable strength and only tested two additional times, once with the same type of test to see the line progression about two weeks later and once with a digital. Though perhaps I simply deleted the rest of the evidence.)

Below, we have the positive pregnancy test from my miscarriage:

It was taken at 8 DPO. EIGHT DAYS PAST OVULATION. Do you see what I mean now? There’s just no way my hCG levels should have been that high at eight days past ovulation, what would be, at best, one to three days after implantation. Most resources say that implantation occurs 7-10 days after ovulation, so you do the math. For further comparison, a test I took Sunday, at 13 DPO, looks very similar.

Below, we have the first positive test from my current pregnancy:

It was taken at 10 DPO. It’s super, super faint, but there (especially in person). Also, notice how it’s lighter than that first pic up there, the one from my first pregnancy at 11 DPO? That made me really happy.

Thanks for being my sounding board. Lining them up like this really does highlight how incredible that January test was, for whatever reason. Let’s just say that I’m happy my current tests follow my healthy first pregnancy much more closely. Here’s to some happy thoughts that this little bean sticks around!