From my journal:
Going for my second blood test in a matter of hours. I've been so busy today that I haven't really had time to worry or think about it.
Until now. It just hit me like a ton of bricks in my pizza-filled stomach, and now I'm terrified. Pulse racing and sick with dread.
Please be better. Please, please be lower. Dear God, please get me below a 12. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to have to go through this.
I deserve children. I deserve happiness.
Please let it be lower. Please, please, please.
The lab tech got my vein on the first try. That was heartening at least. The whole time my blood was draining out of my I said a feverent prayer silently to myself.
"Please be good, please be good, please be good."
The date has been set. I have an appointment with my OBGYN on Thursday, March 24 at 9:20 a.m. At that time she will go over my blood test results. My husband has taken off work to go with me, which is absolutely terrifying with its seriousness. I don't want him to come with me. If he comes it all becomes real.
I have no idea what to expect. Maybe the number will be higher. Maybe the number will be lower, but still on the high side. Maybe it will have miraculously fallen down into the "don't worry, everything's all right" range.
Will she advise us to even try to conceive naturally? Will she just throw some vague and disheartening statistics at us and immediately refer us to an RE?
What does the future hold for us?
I can't stand the waiting. I shall just go very quietly crazy until one day I abruptly implode.