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"Mark!"
One Man's Story of Fertility Success
By Mark Stackpole
I was looking for loopholes, technicalities or mistakes – any possible reason why the test result would be inaccurate. Had it been administered incorrectly? (I wasn't about to ask Charlotte whether or not she had peed on the stick in an appropriate manner.) Was there a faulty batch delivered to the pharmacy? Did I wrongly assume that "+" is the universal symbol for "positive"?
Ultimately, the facts did not change. Not only did the blue "+" arrive instantaneously, but it was practically glowing neon. The test was actually saying, "Saying it's positive doesn't really do it justice. In fact, there can be no doubt that the woman who peed on this stick is about as pregnant as she can get. Nicely done, Mr. Big." (OK, I'm not too sure that it actually said that last part, but it was implied.)
Earlier in the day, we had gone to the hospital for a blood test. Our fertility clinic does blood tests on Day 14 (dpo) if you make it that far without your period starting. We had never even made it to Day 14 before, but since Char had already had some cramping and spotting, along with a feeling in her stomach that we call "stuffiness" (I believe it's like "bloated," only it sounds cuter), we were pretty sure that her period was on its way. She reluctantly agreed to go in for the blood test, not quite ready to let go of the perpetual optimism that preconceivers have between ovulation and the onset of menses. The blood was drawn, and we were told to call back within the next two hours or so.
Now let me say this – I am not a patient man in any respect. Not only do I want it all, but I also want yours, too, and I want it delivered to my doorstep. Now. I was sure that my heart would either explode or simply stop if I did not have the information that I needed. Someone knew something that I didn't, and I found that to be unacceptable, especially under these circumstances.
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