#37: The year I got a negative pregnancy test on Easter
plus big changes for the pod and our favorite IVF caboodle
Three years ago, on Easter Sunday, I took a pregnancy test, and it was negative. It was our twenty-seventh month of trying to get pregnant, which really meant it was closer to our thirtieth cycle since my cycles averaged twenty-five days. It’s hard to remember exactly because I have blocked out so much from that time period of my life, but the scenario likely went one of two ways:
I tested before we went to Easter brunch and spent the entire afternoon faking a smile in photos. I drank a mimosa because why not, while also sneaking off to the bathroom to re-check the test I’d brought in my purse, in case a line had suddenly appeared.
Alternatively, I held out until the afternoon and waited to test until after we returned from Easter brunch, spending the whole day instead, wondering if I could finally be pregnant. I skipped the mimosa because what if, and cradled my three-month-old niece, the third baby for my sister-in-law. I stared out the window during our drive home, hoping, praying, and also knowing deep down the test would be negative. Still, I ran from the car to the bathroom after having purposefully held my pee for hours to get the strongest sample. You know how the rest of the story goes.
It never gets easier to revisit these memories or watch the videos of myself from that time. I recorded them because I told myself I’d want to remember. And yet I keep them in a hidden folder on my phone so they don’t catch me off guard when scrolling through my albums.
This year, Easter will look very different from 2023. I’ll be dressing our nine-month-old IVF daughter in a pastel jumper, and no one will remember how much it cost me to get here. I won’t even remember myself, not really. It’s only in quiet moments like these, when I sit down to write and force myself to open that box, that the sharpness of infertility resurfaces. Because we don’t ever truly forget, not really. Not even when we “beat it.” Not even when it’s “over.” How could we?
Wherever you are in your journey this spring — whether you’re staring at a negative test or anxiously awaiting retrieval results, whether you’re exploring new pathways to parenthood or changing the diaper of the miracle baby that cost you everything — we see your pain, and we carry it, too. It’s one of the things Amy and I love so dearly about this community and the relationships we’ve found through infertility and IVF. No one truly gets it like the person who is also carrying around a negative pregnancy test in their purse at Easter brunch, hoping and praying that maybe there is a faint line and “just test again in a few hours, and you’ll see it.” You’re not alone.
xo Kayti (and Amy)
🪩 Big changes for the pod
We’re so excited to announce what we’re calling the “pod hub,” a permanent home for the podcast via Substack and for community offerings like this newsletter. As a Substack subscriber, you can expect to get emails with:
new pod episodes (season 3 dropping on April 24)
the Friday newsletter (what you’re reading now)
listener stories & access to the full archive of Everyone’s Getting Pregnant Without Me
The option to upgrade to “The Broody Club” for bonus episodes, first dibs on merch drops + special promo codes from our favorite fertility support brands, and first access to community support groups (coming soon)
Alternatively, you can still listen to the pod on Spotify, Apple, and YouTube when new episodes drop if you’d prefer to opt out of the newsletter and offerings + just listen at your leisure - no hard feelings!
💜 small “j” joys:
We love caboodles for organizing our IVF meds & these ones are under $15.
A great read on prenatal vitamins (what you need and what you don’t).
Because it feels like we’re all getting sick right now: high protein chicken noodle soup.
Our favorite Good Hangs episode thus far.
The most underrated and actually affordable water bottle that isn’t “trending”.
This gentle guide to IVF from Cailee Fischer
weekend mood:
