I was cautiously optimistic. Even when I started to notice the spotting ( because that happens in like a third of "normal" pregnancies, right?). Even though my hcg stayed low and was only minimally rising after that first quantitative hcg. Even though the ultrasound dated the pregnancy a week behind what it should have been. This was going to be one of those miracle pregnancies that just took a little time to catch up. And my due date was November 8th, my Gram's birthday.
I made it to 7 weeks before we got the official "this isn't a viable pregnancy" phone call from the nurse. It was a Friday and she said, "I'm sure you know when/if you need to go to the ER. You've been down this road before. I'm sorry". Yes we had; five other times. But this time was supposed to be different.
It's a weird limbo, being pregnant, but not. I wasn't a stranger in this place, but it still felt strange. Strange to know that I was expecting to lose yet another life that had started, but I just couldn't support. Strange to know that even though I was 7 weeks pregnant, the pregnancy had stopped developing around 5 weeks. Should that make me feel better, that at least I wasn't "far along". It doesn't. From that first positive pregnancy test, just like all of the others, I put on the mom hat. I can't disconnect myself from the pregnancy until it is determined to be viable. I guess that would make it so much easier.
So now, I'm not pregnant at all. I got my results from my final blood draw yesterday. My hcg was at a "1". Anything less than 5 is officially not pregnant. I have to go for a follow up with the dr next week. It's weird being pregnant and then not, without having a baby to show for it. It's weird and it's sad, even if that is how it's meant to be for whatever reason.