After a very tense 48 hours, the numbers are in: my beta number is still rising, and went from 44,000 on Tuesday to 58,000 on Thursday (also, I was told that after 10,000 they do not expect doubling betas, just significantly increasing. So I’m ok).
Last night was torture. I had three nightmares in a row about receiving bad news. I would have a nightmare, wake up, then fall asleep and plunge headfirst into a new nightmare. In one, I went in for an ultrasound and they sadly informed me that the baby was growing perfectly, but had no heart at all (and on the screen, I was more like 20 weeks along than 7). This is the twisted shit that comes out of my subconscious.
As I was lying there in bed last night, recovering from one of these nightmares, the perfect analogy for this pregnancy popped into my head. Please indulge me as I try to explain.
This pregnancy is like winning a free trip to Hawaii. Exciting, awesome, unexpected, and almost too good to be true. Like, I’m not sure I’ll actually believe it’s happening until the plane is touching down on the island. In fact, I barely remember filling out the entry form. How the hell did I end up winning?
The thing is, I’ve been to (hypothetical) Hawaii before – only for that trip I planned, and saved up, and tried multiple times to get there…I was overprepared, if anything. I tried so hard for so long to get there that a part of me realized I would get there eventually – somehow – even if it meant putting my ass in a leaky old boat and rowing thousands of miles.
So there it is. Hawaii. Somehow this whole analogy sounded a lot more brilliant last night at 3am. And I find myself really, really wanting to go back to Hawaii, especially now that I know how awesome it is, but at the same time I feel a little selfish because I have been there before. So if I never get to go again in my life… that would suck… but at least I got to do it that one time.
My follow-up ultrasound was scheduled for Tuesday but the nurse at my OB/GYN office (who knows me, my situation, and my propensity for panicking) offered to move it up to Monday. So now I just have two days to wait instead of three. Which is pretty great.
In other news, I have been feeling hella nauseated, mostly in the mornings, and the thought of coffee makes me so queasy. Coming from a 2-cup-a-day coffee junkie, this is reallllly weeeeeird. It’s like having an identity crisis. I cut back to one cup per day while pregnant with Molly, but only because I needed to limit my caffeine intake, not because I didn’t want to drink it. Not wanting coffee at all? No, this is not me. I’m hoping all of these things are good signs.
Obviously your prayers and good vibes are working, so keep them coming! Hopefully I will have some good, strong heartbeat news on Monday.