Tuesday, 3 positive pregnancy tests (Dollar Store kind).
Friday, brown/red spotting.
Friday, blood test for pregnancy hormone count, Chapel Hill. To visit my sister with O and my mom--am told that sitting in the car is a bad place/position if there's a threat of miscarriage. It takes us almost 5 hours instead of 3 to drive to VA because it's pouring down rain the whole time. Totally stressful. I knit.
Saturday, spotting seems to be going away.
Sunday, drive home from VA. No real spotting anymore and feeling hopeful. Got lost in VA and drove an extra 45 minutes out of the way.
Monday, get Friday's results-- 311. Looks too low for 6 weeks. Another blood test.
Tuesday, get Monday's results--311. Yes, they double checked, but it hadn't moved at all. Not a viable pregnancy, but why isn't it going up or down?
Wednesday, get another blood test, Chapel Hill. Bruise on my arm makes me look like I do needle drugs.
Thursday, get results, 331. Confusing, brief panic from a nurse that I could have an ectopic pregnancy, then a quick call back to say that the number increase was negligible, and that it was just the same, still not viable, and very unlikely that it's an ectopic, as it would have been closer to 2000 by then.
Saturday morning, bleeding begins in ernest. I am relieved, but it's not fun. O goes to her grandparents for a slumber party (she loves it) and I go to see Andy play in two bands at Pinhook. An awesome awesome night of distraction where my man really stood out as incredible. I was so proud, and so happy to be there with him.
Sunday, continued. Drive back to Carrboro to get O, out to lunch with the family. Not close enough to a bathroom as I wanted to be.
Monday morning, I pass the obvious tissues, and massive amounts of blod clots resembling liver. Feel weak, tired. Stay hooked to home and the bathroom. Unpleasant. Cancel my appt for another blood test because I just don't feel up to the drive to Chapel Hill again.
Tuesday, blood test appointment, drive to Chapel Hill. Come home and rest, watch part of a movie, a great neighbor with her adorable, sleeping 1-month old comes over to hang out. Surprisingly welcome, considering.
Wednesday, today-- get results, 234. Better, but I was ready for it to be incredibly low, with the amount of blood I'm losing. I bought a vitamin suppliment with lots of iron called Blood Booster that the midwife said was a good thing, and advised even taking two a day, since I already lean towards anemia. Worked hard on late End of Year reports, finally, for my work. They were due Monday, and my boss has been great. Don't think I can contact the kids and their parents and explain why they're so late. Kept Olive home and it was hard, but was good to be with her. Finished reports. Still bleeding a lot, and feeling whimpy. Will have another appointment to check my levels in around a week or so. If all things continue to go 'well' then they should drop to 0-5 soon. If I stop bleeding but my levels remain high, then I may need to get help that I don't want to get. I'm trying to believe that my body is going to just take care of itself. I hope I hope I hope.
It's a weird mix of 'of course I'm fine' and 'I wish I could just lie in bed and get 24-hour massages, watch movies and not engage. It's draining, hormonally rocky, and yet, there's no real way to make something positive out of it other than it is a really good thing it's so early. Not a ton of solice there, but certainly some. My friend Dara brought me flowers, brownies and a porter (at my request, likely not a great idea). SO sweet. The flowers make me have something to look at to remind me that I am actually going through something.
We likely can't try again for a couple of months at least, which makes me sad, too, but all in good time and when the time is right, right?
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