the tragedy of an addiction to POAS.

Let me start by saying that I know I'm crazy. I know this. I've never said anything different.

I bought one final box of FRER. I ordered it from Amazon, the day of my strong beta, when I used my last one. It arrived on Thursday and come Friday morning, I peed on it. Well, peed into the cup and dipped it, but you get my drift.

It looked very similar to the last one I'd taken, three days prior. Too similar. I had a moment of OH SHIT, IT'S OVER, I'M NOT DOUBLING PROPERLY. This was compounded by the smidge of brown-tinged cervical mucus I saw when I wiped. When I say smidge, I mean it was the width of the tip of a Sharpie marker. Seriously small. But it was enough to make my stomach clench.

I spent the day busy at an offsite meeting for work. When I did think about the tinge of cervical mucus or the FRER that seemingly stopped darkening, I tried to tell myself that I could be panicking over nothing. For one thing, my cramps were of the implantation variety, coupled with the pressure above my groin. I had heartburn like a mofo. My nips were super sensitive. Etc. I yelled at myself for peeing on something and ending what had been three solid days of Nofreakout. For an anxiety-ridden person like myself, three days of Nofreakout is a big deal. So, why did I have to ruin it? Why couldn't I just revel in the land of Nofreakout? 

When I came home I posted to another super-secret Facebook group that's focused on infertility and anxiety/depression. I confessed what I'd done and was instantly reassured by the Captain, a veteran of infertility and embryo adoption who is always there for someone in need. She'd been in the same place I was - knowing she was pregnant but still POAS for reassurance. Like me, there was a time a few weeks in where she thought if she took a test, the test line would be strong enough to steal all of the dye from the control line. Like me, she didn't get a test like that, and like me, she too thought it was over. (It wasn't. In fact, that's the cycle that gave her and her husband their precious daughter.)

The Captain told me to stop peeing on things. The tests can mess with your head. I knew she was right, but it was kind of like when you know you want to start eating healthy but have a full box of Oreos in the cabinet. You can either throw them away, give them to someone else, or hurry up and eat them to get them out of the house so you aren't tempted anymore. 

I'm sure you can guess which option I typically choose.

So, yes. At 5 p.m. to peed in a cup and dipped the FRER and was surprised and relieved to see that the test line did indeed steal almost all of the dye from the control line, even after I'd been pounding water all day.

The one on the top is with FMU. The one on the bottom was taken with diluted pee late in the afternoon.

Here's what I think: I think my hCG levels have gotten to that weird point where the chemical sensors are getting confused. So really diluted urine gave me what I was looking for, but concentrated urine did not.

I have one FRER left. I'm not going to use it. I've decided I'm going to hold on to it to remind me that I need to STOP PEEING ON THINGS. Today, I am pregnant. Nothing has happened that would lead me to believe that this pregnancy is doomed like the last one. I need to stop looking for tragedy where none has occurred.

The only real tragedy is my POAS addiction. It ends up adding to my fear and robbing me of my joy. So, I'm stepping away from the sticks. 

I'm ready to move on.