It hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Twenty-four hours ago, I had convinced myself that I wasn’t pregnant. Now I find myself wrestling with the hope, fear, happiness, and disbelief that comes with that second line. As I mentioned before, no betas here, so the plan is to test again tomorrow and the next day, hopefully watching that line turn darker and darker. I’ll probably wait until Monday to call our clinic. They recommend testing 15 days after transfer (I can’t imagine anyone actually waits that long!), but I think that’s more of a “don’t give up hope just yet” strategy. I’ll also call my local GP. Chances are, no one locally will do an early ultrasound, but it’s worth asking to avoid another long day of trains and buses with our 3-year-old in tow. I could make the journey by myself again, but if it’s bad news, I really don’t want to find out alone.