Still here.

This morning the pregnancy tests I have been taking for the past five days finally turned slightly positive. It was odd to watch the faint pinkish band appear and not feel happy. I haven’t seen that second line for two years; I have imagined countless times since then the day it would reappear.
I suppose the fact that the tests were negative yesterday and positive today is a good thing, in its way. Based on the fact that my temperatures spiked abrubtly on 13 dpo, I am guessing that implantation happened 12 dpo. That would explain the low beta, but it wouldn’t make it more encouraging. Alas, pregnancies that implant after 11 dpo have at least a 82% miscarriage rate before six weeks. I have never heard of a beta this dismal working out–even Brooklyn Girl’s 14.3 was a day earlier (10dp3dt).

I remembered that I called my clinic last week to make sure they could do my day 3 bloodwork this Monday, if needed, and they’d said they could. So I called them this afternoon and asked whether they couldn’t move my beta to Monday. They cannot. They will only do bloodwork that day for people who “really need it.”
Whereas I, obviously, am just doing this for kicks.
“Need it on that particular day, I mean,” the nurse said quickly.

All the self-serve labs in my area seem to be closed on weekends.

So. I wait.

I could not go to work today–I am sad, and sick, and exhausted, and my breasts need to be kept perfectly motionless in order for me not to swoon with the pain (I guess it wasn’t all bruising from my pre-test poking–I had a legitimate pregnancy symptom after all).

I really don’t know what to write, except that I am so grateful to have you. The first thing I did after I got the call yesterday was post, and every comment made me feel a little bit better and a little less lonely. Thank you all so much.