I knew this would happen. I finally crossed the first hurdle of the infertility challenge and now I’ve fallen flat on my face at the second hurdle. Why do I feel like I’ll have to clamber over 50 more hurdles of heartbreak and stress before there’s an actual baby in my arms? In case you’re totally confused: I went in for my second beta today and it was 445. My first beta was 244. That’s a doubling time of 55 hours, when it’s supposed to be 48 hours — and to be honest, most of the bloggers I read who go on to have healthy pregnancies start off with doubling times of, like, 38 or maybe 42 hours, which makes this even worse.
The nurse on the phone asked if I was spotting, which means she clearly has her doubts about this too, I think. But then she went on to say it’s “fine” and that my doctor feels it’s “fine” and I should just keep doing whatever I’m doing until my first ultrasound on March 4. At that point, it’ll be 7 or so weeks, and they’ll need to see a heartbeat.
Honestly, I can’t deal with this. I called back and begged to get one last beta, and the nurse only relented because I was so frantic. The earliest they can fit me in is Tuesday. At that point, it should be 1,800. If it’s any lower, I’m assuming this is a done deal.
Great start to the long weekend.