Iffy. My new least favorite word.
On Friday as Mr. M. and I were sitting around, getting ready to leave for the funeral, my phone rang. It was Dr. A's office. I assumed it was a nurse calling to give me the results of my progesterone blood test from Thursday.
Imagine my shock when it was Dr. A. herself.
My progesterone was low - 13. Now I know nothing about progesterone except that it is an important pregnancy hormone, so I don't know if 13 is gasp-worthy or not. I have purposefully avoided running to Dr. Google because at this point I don't want to scare myself.
Anyway. Dr. A. told me she was switching me to progesterone suppositories (which are GROSS but at least they're not shots).
Then she straight up told me that this is a very "iffy" point in my pregnancy and that I could lose the pregnancy.
I shakily passed the phone to Mr. M. so that she could tell him everything and he could answer questions. The tears were pouring down my face and semi-hysterical sobs were happening every time I took a breath.
I followed Dr. A.'s orders for the rest of the weekend to "sit around and do nothing." No lifting, no exercise, not even any cleaning. It drove me NUTS because when I am stressed ALL I want to do is clean. Mr. M. was very sweet and coddled me and took good care of me all weekend.
Yesterday I went for another progesterone blood test. They called this morning and my levels are back to normal. That's some good news, at least. I am to keep on the suppositories until Dr. A. tells me otherwise - probably until at least ten weeks.
I wish I knew what was going on in that uterus of mine. Yesterday I had myself convinced I wasn't pregnant anymore - I barely have any nausea, my boobs are only a little bit sore and I just don't FEEL that pregnant. I was convinced they were going to call with bad news today.
So for now, I'm hanging in there, and waiting. I have an appointment with a maternal fetal medicine specialist Thursday, June 9. He will do an ultrasound so at least I will know if things are still ok.
This waiting is the worst.
So for now, I'm hanging in there, trying not to lose my mind.
...and trying not to think about the word "iffy" too much.