The longer story; or, In Which I Ramble and You Learn What a Control Freak I Really Can Be

Early last week, I bought a 3-pack of First Response Early Results pregnancy tests. I had my suspicions, and though my period was a couple of days away, I decided to give the Early Results claim a run for its money. (Plus, I can be a control freak and obsessive about pregnancy anyway, so there's that). The first two were negative. I decided my suspicions had been wrong and breathed a sigh of relief. (I can't say this baby was planned or unplanned...let's say it was a spur-of-the-moment decision that later had me slapping my forehead and saying, "What were you THINKING?").

My period arrived on time on Wednesday...or so I thought. I had a couple of days of spotting, and no cramping. HIGHLY unusual. By Thursday night, it was gone. I eyed the remaining test, and decided to give it a go in the morning.

And the second pink line was there. It just was. And just as I did with all my other positive tests, I gasped, laughed, and then thanked God, because I believe that every life is a gift from God, and I was sincerely thankful to have the chance, however shaky, to do this one more time.

Coincidentally, I had an appointment with the doc who takes care of my thyroid, a Middle Eastern internist who is called Dr. Al by most of his patients. Since I was due for thyroid bloodwork anyway, he went ahead and wrote an additional order, I thought, for a pregnancy test to confirm. It wasn't until I got to the lab that I realized what he had ordered was just a CBC...a complete blood count which doesn't prove anything about pregnancy at all. The lab left a message at the office of the OB who took care of me during my miscarriages, requesting an addendum to this test. I knew that was not going to go over well, since I had not even had a chance to call the OB's office and tell them I was pregnant and make my standard requests: a standing order for a quantitative beta hCG test, to be repeated every 48 hours, and a prescription for progesterone. At least the lab was willing to draw an extra vial of blood before hearing back from my OB, but because of insurance restrictions, they could not run a test on it until they had an order on file.

By the time I got home, my OB's nurse had left a message on the answering machine asking me to explain myself! Oh boy...so I called and left a message of my own (you can only ever get voice mail in that place) explaining my situation, and why I had not yet called in (I didn't freaking have a chance!). My OB must have a new nurse, because this one called me back within 20 minutes; before, I've had to wait until the end of the day. She told me she had already called in the script and the lab order, and gave me lots of encouragement and sympathy: she'd had a miscarriage of her own at one time.

So, Yay! Additional bloodwork ordered, prescription called in...I was set. I thought. I had to stop and make lunch for my kids by then, but as soon as I could, I called the lab to make sure the lab order had been called in. Good thing I did. They couldn't find one in my computer record, and assumed it had not been sent over. Another call back to my OB's nurse, who again called me back quickly (10 minutes this time) and said she'd called them and, lo and behold, they found the fax in a basket with others. No wonder it wasn't in my record; it hadn't even been processed yet! D'oh!

Next on my list: the pharmacy. Our local Walgreens is the only place that carries this particular type of progesterone. Yes, it had been called in, but it wouldn't be ready for another hour (it gets poured into a mold and has to be refrigerated for a while to solidify...and I will leave it to your imaginations to figure out the implications of that, because explaining it further would be TMI for my male readers!).

Let me back up a bit: the quantitative beta hCG measures the amount of a certain type of hormone that is only present during pregnancy (or if one is taking certain fertility drugs, which I was not) called human chorionic gonadotropin, hCG for short. I have no idea why it's capitalized that way in the abbreviation. But it is. Anyway, ideally, it should double every 48 hours in the first trimester. If it's not doubling, or is getting smaller, a miscarriage is pretty much imminent. (It's kind of sad how much scientific knowledge one can pick up when one is plagued with miscarriages).

Later in the afternoon, I went to pick up my prescription, and then stopped back by the hospital lab because darned if I wasn't going to get those lab results myself instead of waiting for the doctor's office to call me with them (especially since it was a Friday afternoon). With a flash of my driver's license, and a quick filling-in of a form, I had the results in my hot little hands.

My hCG level was 44, which actually told me very little. I couldn't know more until 48 hours had passed and I'd gotten more blood tested. But then I remembered: the flag. This had happened early in Aislinn's pregnancy; on the test result page is a range of normal hCG levels for different weeks of pregnancy. From .2 to 1 week gestation (post-missed period, I think that is), the normal range is 5-50. 44 is on the high end for being near the beginning of that first week. My results were flagged with an H for "high". High levels of hCG on the first test are a good thing, especially if there is nothing to compare it to.

I got through the rest of Friday and all of Saturday fairly calmly. After church today, Leo took both girls with him to Audrey's Chinese class, while I went to have more blood drawn, ran to Walmart, ran home to unload the groceries, and then rushed back to the lab where the technician had promised the results should be ready. The results? Drumroll please........

117. They had more than doubled. YES! And already in the second-week range.

Now...it's still early. Babies can grow and grow, and then be lost even in the second trimester, or later. I'm realistic about this. I know in *any* pregnancy, even statistically low-risk ones, there is always a chance something can go wrong.

But I'm holding on to this: on my way to the lab this afternoon, I got a feeling of peace. I just thought to myself, you know...I think everything might just work out OK on this.

I do want to warn you, my readers (both the ones I know about and the ones who choose to lurk), that if the anxiety level is too much for you, I won't be offended if you don't come around for a while. This could be a real roller coaster. When I was pregnant with Aislinn, I had at least five different episodes of spotting throughout the pregnancy, and each time the sight of that blood on the toilet paper made my heart skip a beat. She obviously made it the entire nine months, but just as I had no guarantees then, I have no guarantees now.

I'm holding on to hope, though, just as I did with Aislinn. And I'd love it if you'd stick around with me and see what can be borne out of hope.