That is my beta. A lousy, freaking 3. And, apparently, because there’s even a little whiff of a pregnancy, I cannot be released from Beta Watch Hell.
Between you, me and the internets, it looks like I just might just get to add a chemical pregnancy to infertility resume of failures. Let’s not begin to think about the fact that this would be loss number 3 and I would have earned the that coveted title of Repeat Miscarrier. I don’t know how many more times I can do this.
I used to think that the worst phone call was the negative one. This one just might be worse. I’ve already cried enough to make my face puffy and my eyes swell. Thank God I work from home because I can wail all I want, look like I’ve been cutting an onion for the past hour and no one is the wiser.
I have to go in again tomorrow morning for another blood test. Let’s hope it doesn’t take another FREAKING 7.5 HOURS to get my results.
And, Mr. X is away on business travel and won’t return until Friday.
And, my dad called to tell me that my grandmother, my last living grandparent, has died.
It’s amazing how a day that started off with such promise and hope could crash and burn so spectacularly in the space of one hour.