I called for my lab results before lunch hoping that they’d have them back and my nurse could call me on her lunch break. The doctor marked STAT on the lab slip and the lab tech highlighted it ninety million times, so they know we need these results NOW. But – the nurse didn’t call at her normal lunch hour – so I guess I’m stuck waiting until they close the office for the day before she calls. Hopefully she will call then – if not – I’ll venture into Operation Flaming Bag O’ Poop to make myself feel better.
I have found myself reverting back to the old habits when one is either (a) hoping they are pregnancy each cycle or (b) are actually pregnant and looking for any sign that pregnancy is progressing properly. Namely? I’m feeling myself up every 2 seconds.
It’s the only symptom I seem to ever experience during early pregnancy – the sore boobs – and I’m desperately hoping to get a little bit of that sore-boob action to tide me over until the nurse calls. Luckily, there’s no one around right now to catch me copping a feel of my own chest. (Sore? No. Not yet. Now? Nope. Now? Nope.) One of these times someone is going to catch me and the professional image I’ve been trying to establish will be ruined forever.
Who are we kidding? Like anyone would ever see me as anything “professional.” I’d say “delusional” or “psychotic” would be more accurate labels. Or possibly? “Self-Groper.”
Update from the lab…
407. That is WAAAY more than double 123! But, of course, I thought she said 4007 and almost had a heart attack. But 407? ABOVE NORMAL. Which means this embryo is behaving properly so far! Yay! She guesses I’m about 4+ weeks along and they’ll bring me in once my hCG gets above 10,000 for my first date with the ultrasound wand. Oh, how I missed you so.
Everyone now has permission to celebrate. Woo Hoo!