I feel like I’ve spent this whole week waiting on edge for the results of one blood test or another. Surprisingly, I am more anxious about the results of this morning’s progesterone test than I was for Wednesday’s beta. I would really like to have something to show for my poor sore rear end. I don’t think double digits are too much to ask.
Hey universe—can we add a few points to that meager 8.5? I would be much obliged.
My sister in law is flying in tonight from Colorado and staying with us for the weekend so we can all attend a big family wedding tomorrow. A big, Catholic family wedding. In a church. With a priest. My favorite kind. <— Note sarcasm. I am tired just thinking about it. Think anyone will notice if I nap during the mass?
Fortunately, we told my SIL about our positive test right away, so I don’t need to feel awkward when she’s here with us. She has known all along that we’ve been trying, and Catch deserved to have someone who is not stressing over test results to be happy with. At least that means I don’t have to hide the suppositories that are in the refrigerator—or the needles and the sharps container.
I am still having a really hard time believing that I’m pregnant. It’s totally surreal. I can’t wrap my head around it. I’m sure it will sink in a bit better when we see what’s going on in there at Wednesday’s scan. In the meantime, I am going to just keep reminding myself that this is absolutely real. I’m also trying to keep myself from waiting for the other shoe to drop.
P.S. For the past few days, I have been RAVENOUS. I eat, and then I am hungry again less than 2 hours later. It’s 10:30, and I am contemplating eating part of my lunch. I expected nausea, but is hunger a “thing” this early? This is getting a bit ridiculous!