Not doubling, but rising. Very, very slowly.
So, I called DW’s office and got Monday’s results. HCG rose to 880, but progesterone fell to 4.7.
That was pre-prometrium, though, so I’m not putting a lot of stock in the progesterone number. It’s horrible, sure and an indicator of BAD SAD THINGS, but medication is underway to counteract it.
I joked to the nurse than maybe I’ll be one of those “my blighted ovum just turned 4” stories after all and she made a sympathetic, non-committal clucking noise that sounded very much to me like “oh, honey, that baby’s gone, but if that’s what you gotta tell yourself to make it through the day then I won’t argue.”
Oh Friday, how I long for your probity probeness. Obviously, there’s no denying the hope, now (which is sure to bite me and bad) but I’m just so tired of the gray. Of course, regardless of what we see on Friday, I’ll still be a mess, I’m sure.