Not really. But I have access to too much information and unfortunately, I don’t know how to interpret that information even though what is front of me indicates nothing but good.
I’m referring to my beta levels.
13dpo – 122
15dpo – 217
21dpo – 3590
27dpo – 23,708
It’s at the highest, if not above the highest reported for singletons.
So guess what happens when you google “higher than average hcg levels”?
Increased risk for Downs.
If I could just take back the last 15 minutes and erase them from my memory, I would do it in the moment a six week embryo’s heart can beat.
Otherwise, I will have to hope that gestational sac number two was overlooked as I watch the clock for the next 13 days.
I’ll get to the crux of the matter:
There’s one yolk sac of .36cm inside of one gestational sac.
Inside the yolk sac we saw what will become the heart. An electrical physio flicker is at work now.
I return in two weeks for a follow up.
Why the title?
I had my blood draw at 9:00 a.m. By 12:30 I still hadn’t heard back so I called the clinic. I was told that Dr. Samelastnameasme was in surgery and hadn’t had time to review it.
Where has Dr. Blinksalot been? Why can’t she look at it? I haven’t seen her since my saline HSG in October…
Didn’t anyone tell you? She left the practice at the end of October to take a position in New York.
I wonder if she knows I’m a day shy of being six weeks pregnant…
It stings that I’m just finding out now.
I’m naming the embryo Murdock in her honor.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for my little balloon of happiness to be shot down by the snot-nosed bully across the street, Reality.
Saturday afternoon my sister stopped at our house on her way back home to The Capital after leaving the family farm. I asked her how everything went the day before and she laughed humorously.
She then proceeded to share Friday’s activities.
My brother, Ray, who rents the farm, and my father, who is too weak nowadays to farm it himself, got into a scuffle. The facts are rather unclear as my brother isn’t talking about it and my father’s recollection is a bit fuzzy, shall we say.
You see, even though I’m quite judgemental about my MIL’s alcoholism, I really should focus some of that energy on my own family. My father is an alcoholic as well.
So as I was saying, Dad believes that Ray punched him in the side. At the hospital (oh yeah, wait til I tell you more on that), he told the doctor that Ray kicked him. The doctor asked if Ray had been drinking. Dad replied, “Hell no! I was.”
So now I’ll back up a bit. After the mystery kick/punch/fall…he came into the house and told my mother that he needed to be taken to the hospital. He didn’t feel right. He told her he was going to change clothes. Because a hundred years or so ago my parents fell out of love with each other, my mother didn’t believe him (which I find obscene as the man hasn’t been to a doctor since his carpal tunnel surgery years ago even though he’s in constant pain from one malady or another, and he’s a smoker….and of course the drinking….), so she just left him there to go to work. Just drove away while he was changing clothes.
My sister ended up taking Dad to the hospital.
Now that we are up to point of the hospital admission: they decided to keep him observation overnight and to watch any change in his urine because the first tentative guess was that he may have damaged his spleen. If so, a before and after comparison of his urine over several hours would verify. However, the next day, it wasn’t so much the chemical makeup that had the doctor concerned, but the blood in his urine. Copious amounts of blood.
An MRI was performed. His prostate was enlarged. My sister nearly scoffed when she was asked if he had had a recent PSA done. What was unusual is the size of his bladder. It was enormous! However Dad claimed he felt no need to empty his bladder. He never gets up in the middle of the night. So they inserted a catheter. More blood in the urine. His bladder had expanded to hold almost two quarts of fluid.
Two. Quarts. in his bladder. And he couldn’t feel it.
He is negative for prostate cancer. But they have no idea why the enlarged bladder and they still haven’t had the radiologist result out the images from the MRI (which was done Saturday a.m. and it is now Sunday p.m.). Probably Monday sometime.
We went up today to see him and just as we neared his room we saw a man in a gown walking with a nurse very slowly. His gray hair was mussed and his legs were as thin as a bird’s. He shuffled painfully down the hall. Mr. DD said it was my Dad. I said no way and I peeked into his room, which was a semi-private. The other patient said that the nurse had just taken him for some exercise.
When I stepped back out in the hall, the small, frail man was slowly heading back towards us. It was Dad.
The strongest, fastest, smartest man that was there when I was a little girl was gone. He had been eroded away by hard physical labor, booze and a loveless marriage to literally stand before me a mere wisp of what he once was.
How do you think things are going to go when you toss and turn all night, waking every hour waiting for the clock to say 6:30 a.m.?
Or what about after waiting two hours for some kind of news, the lab calls to let you know the phlebotomist used the wrong vial and I need to get a new draw?
Or how about when you call the clinic after waiting two more hours and are told that the doctor hasn’t had time to review the results because she’s in surgery and I will have to wait until she calls me back for the results?
So my morning was shot to shit sitting on pins and needles.
During my eye exam (which I scheduled last week), I kept fogging up the machine because I was in such a state of complete freakoutedness.
Beta 3590. First ulstrasound next Thursday.
I have to admit I feel as unpregnant as I did three months ago. I would give anything to feel something besides some cramping, which has also pretty much disappeared.
Earlier I mentioned breast tenderness? Gone.
I understand that a majority of symptoms do not manifest until closer to six weeks, but let’s hypothesize here for just a moment.
Let’s say that the ever illusive hCG was increasing as it should. Since my initial levels started off higher, wouldn’t it then make sense that if I was going to feel any symptoms, I would feel them earlier?
So of course I am now justifying the reason I am not feeling anything is because there’s going to be nothing to feel.
Much suckage would ensue.
On the other hand, I remember Wolf. That sly embryo kept me forever at the edge of my seat in a pregnancy-induced schizophrenia:
“I didn’t get pregnant. It’s over.”
“I’m pregnant, but it’s over.”
“The beta didn’t increase. It’s over.”
“The beta increased, but didn’t double. Now it’s over.”
“Wow, the beta increased in less than 40 hours! It can’t be over!”
“Empty gestational sac. It’s really over.”
“Hey! Now there’s a heartbeat! I can finally be ‘cautiously optimistic’ and enjoy the idea of not having the crappy symptoms!”
“Ooops. Enlarged gestational sac. Yep. This time it’s over.”
Hence, the name Wolf (The Girl Who Cried Pregnant).
Only three more days until the third beta. At least I can be thankful it’s not another six days, right?
Is valium bad during a pregnancy, even I don’t mix it with alcohol?
You all are just trying to mess with my head now, aren’t you? I really did not make the Holiday Card Exchange confusing…
You send me your address. I send you my address.
You send me a card. I send you a card.
You only have to add one more card to your pile; however I will have to add oodles. And I actually do write something in the card! Not just my name! It’s awwwwwwesome, dude! Bring out the exclamation points!
Now send me your address. Quit stalling and being all nambypamby. You know I’m talking to YOU.
I think I’ll set the cut-off date to get your address to me for November 30th since I would like to get the international cards sent out early December, which may reach those of you celebrating Hanukkah a bit late…(sorry about that).
Rumor has it that I closed down this blog. Not so. I decided to devote the majority of my blogging energy to TKO during the month of November. It was important to me to keep myself from feeling too scattered at this time and while others went the route of NaBloPoMo, I went the opposite, since posting every day wasn’t a challenge. The challenge was to leave this site for one month, and as you can see, I wasn’t able to meet said challenge.
I’ll be back in December. For how long after that still is yet to be seen.