I am officially not pregnant.

I knew that I wasn’t, having taken 4 home tests since last Wednesday, but there was the tiniest glimmer of hope that maybe the dollar store tests weren’t sufficiently sensitive to pick up the small amount of HCG. The RE’s blood tests are more sensitive, though.

We now have 3 shots left of the donor we used with Noah. I don’t know why, but 3 seems like a lot less than 4. I’m scared it won’t be enough.

And I had the most unproductive, irritating conversation with the phone nurse yesterday. (Who incidentally, never did call me. At 3:15 pm, knowing that they quit calling back at 4 pm, I called needing to know my results. It is so not-nice to leave infertility treatment patients hanging like that.) My regular nurse is out of the office until Wednesday. Let’s call the phone nurse Nurse Indecisive.

If you’re interested in more technical details, they’re below the fold.

You see, at my initial consult, my doctor (we’ll call him Dr. Charming) was of the opinion that the fact I was still (at the time) nursing Noah twice/day was no big deal. Not likely to affect things, given that it was so little time, and that I’d had my period back since February.

Great! Sez I.

Nursing is so obviously a huge source of comfort to Noah. It calms him down more quickly and effectively than anything else. And I love the special time that we have together, mostly me cuddling him, sometimes Noah engaging in Cirque de Soleil-worthy acrobatics and contortions.

At the same time, I was ready to cut back. And frankly, so was Noah. Except for a marathon regression during our trip to Milwaukee (where a slightly nervous Noah nursed like he was 10 months old instead of 18), we dropped everything but the bedtime nursing.

And it’s been like that, now, for about 6 weeks.

Every couple of days, Noah asks to nurse at some other point in the day, but he’s almost always distractable.

Anyway, I saw a different doctor than Dr. Charming when I went in for my mid-cycle ultrasound and bloodwork this month. Let’s call her Dr. Highly Recommended.

I don’t even remember what I said to Dr. Highly Recommended. It was an offhand remark about nursing.

She reacted strongly.

She did NOT think that I should be TTC while still nursing, and when I told her what Dr. Charming had said, she took a deep breath and responded, “Well, let me put it this way. I would STRONGLY advise you not to use up all of your sperm before you wean completely.”

Back to yesterday, and Nurse Indecisive.

Having delivered the bad, if expected, news, Nurse Indecisive asked if I had any questions.

Yes!

I’m concerned about these conflicting opinions on the subject of my now-once-per-day nursing. Here’s what Dr Charming said, but when I saw Dr Highly Recommended, she felt strongly the other way.

“Well, all I can really tell you is that you should listen to your doctor.”

And then my head exploded. I’m sure I said this in a very irritating, high-pitched, obnoxious, and frantic voice, “But they said conflicting things!!!”

“Um, well, Dr. Charming is your primary doctor here, right?”

Yes.

“Then you should listen to him.”

Um. You see, I’m nervous about that, seeing as Dr Highly Recommended disagreed so strongly.

“I really can’t tell you what to do. You should really follow the advice of your doctor.”

I took a deep breath, tired of the circular unhelpfulness of the conversation, not to mention that the official news that I was not pregnant was starting to sink in.

“I understand that. But before jumping into another cycle, I’d really like to have a conversation with someone who can help me figure out how best to move forward.”

“Would you like me to schedule a consult with Dr Charming?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

“Oh dear, he’s not available for that until blahblahblah. I’ll email him your concerns and call you back tomorrow and tell you what he said.”

Deep breath. Telephone tag where Nurse Indecisive says god-knows-what about my concerns, then interprets the answers back to me. I do not feel reassured by this option, but nothing else seems to be available. And I really wanted to get off the phone.

“Great. Thanks.”

All of my friends who go to a different RE practice here in town were told that they had to wean completely before trying again. No exceptions.

But I don’t want to. I don’t think Noah is ready. I think it would suck. (Heh. Pardon the word choice.) It would require a whole new bedtime routine.

What should I do?