I also did the last of my more expensive tests.
So I was feeling pretty good on my way to my beta appointment. Not confident, exactly, but not completely paralyzed by anxiety. Which has been my new normal for a portion of each of the last few days.
After the beta, I rushed back home to meet the realtors to take photos of my mother's home. I finished, finally, the last cleaning up and organizing projects. It's hard to keep a house this clean, though, so it's going to require some effort on my part. But at least my mom's stuff is all tucked away now.
I was excited because my cousin offered to pick up C from preschool after lunch today. I was planning to go to the movies by myself, a decadent indulgence, but one I deeply craved after this last week of stress and hard work (coordinating all the work on my mother's house). But around late morning, I started to feel wonky. Dizzy and tired and with an upset stomach.
I had a snack and lay on the couch for a while, and eventually, called the RE's office. I wasn't really so nervous -- I figured this was just pregnancy symptoms -- but the yuckiness didn't exactly match up with what I remembered from my last pregnancy, and I wondered if I was supposed to still be on OHSS precautions?
Oops. Turns out, why yes, I am. I'm still supposed to be monitoring my sodium intake. Huh. The nurse said she wanted to check in with the RE about me and would call back.
I didn't ask if I am also supposed to be limiting my fluid intake because, frankly, I was insatiably thirsty and couldn't bear the idea of not being able to swig whenever I wanted to.
I wavered on my movie plans, not sure if I was well enough to go, but oh, such a rare opportunity! So finally I left, pulling out of the driveway just seconds before they pulled in. Luckily Calliope didn't see me.
I settled into my amazingly comfortable electronically reclining movie seat with my phone perched on my leg, on vibrate, because I still hadn't heard back from the nurse. Every time I got a text or SMC Forum message, I jumped a foot in the air.
Finally, the phone rang from the doctor's office and I grabbed it and ran -- I chose the seat closest to the exit for this reason -- to the closest quiet spot I could find.
"Huh-huh-hello?" I gasped breathlessly. (I'm not sure if it was the anxiety or the rushing or that progesterone is already affecting my lungs.) I'm so curious to know what the nurse thought was the reason for my panting!
She informed me that my beta needed to go up to at least 48, but it had been 56.
I then asked, "So, at what point do we say that I am actually pregnant, and that this isn't a chemical pregnancy?"
"Oh, you're definitely pregnant. We just don't know if this is a good pregnancy or a bad pregnancy."
A good pregnancy? A bad pregnancy?
What strange terminology. I'm sure she means that she doesn't know if this will end in miscarriage... but that could happen at any point? When do you decide to term a pregnancy "a good one"? When we see the gestational sack? When we see the heartbeat?
I then asked about my progesterone and was relieved to hear it's up to 23 from 7.5. Phew. I wish I had asked to switch to PIO injections last week.
She then asked if I wanted to go for a beta on Friday. It was surprising to me that it was up to me -- they were content to stop monitoring with two consistent doublings? -- but yes, thanks, I'd just as soon have one more confirmation.
I asked when the first sonogram would be, because it's going to require some complicated childcare logistics, but she wasn't ready to say -- said she would let me know after Friday's beta.
But for today... I'm terrified to say it but... I'm pregnant.