And so it ends... and begins.

I find it funny that when I wrote that mopey post about the pain of infertility, I was actually pregnant. I had been pregnant for 3 days (assuming fertilization took place the same day as the IUI). 12 days later, I took the test, and was shocked to find out it was all over.

I couldn't take a home pregnancy test, of course. My mom always had trouble when she got pregnant - the home tests wouldn't register anything until a couple weeks after she had a positive blood test, because her hormones were so low. I have the same problems, so it wasn't worth wasting a test that could give me a false negative.

On top of that, taking it less than 14 days after the trigger shot (which is made of HCG, the same hormone you produce when pregnant, and what the tests look for), can give you a false positive, and that would be utterly devastating.

No, I waited until the blood draw, and until the lab called me with the results.

It was around 2:00 PM, and I was at work. My phone rang, and I darted into the empty break room, answering it on the way.

The nurse began the conversation the same way they always do: "Do you have a minute to talk about your blood test?"

In my experience, that question has always been followed by. "I'm so sorry, but the results were negative. Stop taking the progesterone, and call us when your next cycle starts."

As she asked the question, my heart stopped pounding and started crumbling. I'd been bracing myself for it all day, but I've never quite been ready for it.

"Yes," I managed, closing the break room door behind me.

Her next sentence sent my heart fluttering at 1,000 bpm.

"Guess what," she said, a laugh definitely behind her voice.

I didn't even have time to catch my breath before she said, "You're pregnant!"

And, like the baby I am, I burst out sobbing. And I couldn't quite believe it. I asked, "Wait, are you sure?" a couple of times, while scenarios of how that could be wrong started racing through my head. I had leftover HCG from the trigger shot? I had been pregnant but miscarried and there were leftover hormones? There was no way. It had been so long. And yet, she confirmed it for me 3 times. I was, in fact, pregnant.

"Wait, so, the HCG was high enough?" I asked. "Are you sure?"

She laughed. "We usually look for a number above 5. Yours was over 500."

I'm still not sure if I heard that right. That seems impossibly high. I thought 50 was normal for this phase of the cycle. I'll have to double check at my next appointment.

But still, it clinched it for me. I was really, truly pregnant.

She gave me some instructions while I cried and tried to breathe, and we set up my next appointment with the clinic. On April 6, I'll go in for my second to last checkup with them, and then it's one more at 9 weeks, then on to my OB... which I don't have yet. After that April checkup I'll start asking my friends who have had babies who their OB was, but for now, I'm just looking forward to April.

I called Carl, and he was incredulous too. It just seemed so impossible that all of this was finally over. 20 months of it, so many no's, and finally a yes. He had a laugh in his voice, though, in stark contrast to my barely controlled crying.

And then I called my mom, because she's been with me every step of the way.

It was funny... I didn't have the reaction I expected. I thought, when the answer was finally yes, that I would be flooded with relief and euphoria.

I wasn't.

Not even close.

Instead, deep pain that I'd been suppressing for almost two years seeped out, finally safe to be felt. The whole day was spent in a confusing mess of the final dregs of disappointment and disbelief. More pain was the very last thing I expected, but that's exactly what happened.

The next day was better... a lot better. I downloaded a pregnancy app, recorded all my symptoms, and looked up pictures of my little blob. That's what my baby is right now - a poppy-seed sized blob. But it's my blob, and I love my little blob with all my heart.

Now, 5 days after the test, it's very real, and I'm euphoric. I'm growing a person, and I can't even begin to tell you how much I love my little person.

Finally, the poking and prodding, the months of hope that ended in blood and pain, everything that has made up the majority of the last 20 months, is somehow, miraculously over.

I finally, finally have a baby.