Yesterday we had our first ultrasound. It should have been a happy moment.
But, the minute they turned on the screen and I saw a tiny black sack filled with nothing, I knew it was not good. The chipper u/s tech did not. She said, “well, looks like you’re about four weeks!” I told her I should have been six and that something was not right. She said she had to do a few calculations and I was sent to the exam room to wait for the ARNP who I had to see because my regular doctor did not have any appointments and this should have been very routine.
Anyway, my embryonic sac measured 4w6d. I should have been six weeks exactly.
After Nurse R told me that getting pregnant is not an exact science and I didn’t really know when I ovulated (both are untrue, but what do you expect from a condescending know-it-all) she said I should remain optimistic. Okay. Whatever. She ordered some my betas, which are supposed to double every 48 hours.
Four stabs of my arm and many tears later, they finally got half a vial of blood.
I got my results today, and my betas are only at 1441. That puts me at 2-3 weeks pregnant. And impossibility.
I’m pretty sure it’s over. I’m okay. Sad, but life goes on. I think things happen for a reason and unlike most women going through a miscarriage, it’s okay to tell me that. It helps tremendously that 1. I go home to see Donovan every day; and 2. that it is what’s called a Blighted Ovum, and there was never really a baby there.
So. Now I have to figure out if I want to wait around for things to pass naturally or if I want to have a procedure to get rid of it all. I am not fond of either idea.
I have one more beta scheduled for tomorrow. It’s supposed to double. I really, really don’t feel like getting it done, but I will anyway. I also have to work tomorrow. The last thing I want to do. But, such is life.
Anyway, thanks for all the prayers. They are truly appreciated, though ironic since there was never a baby to be praying for.