Scenes from a miscarriage. Week 1.

Tuesday May 21. First blood-work, 4 weeks 3 days pregnant. 

Wednesday May 22.  Learn HCG = 668, Progesterone = 18.8.  Remain calm.

Thursday May 23. Second blood-work, 4 weeks 5 days.

Friday May 24, 2pm. Learn HCG rose to 1254.  This is an almost but not quite a 50% increase. Call doctor in panic.  She has left the office at 2.

Friday, 6pm.  New doctor returns my call, this is our first conversation, the first time she hears my voice.  I explain my Asherman's connection to one of her former patients.  She immediately warns that my age is a risk factor.  But my Hcg is fine, she just wants one more HCG and progesterone check. I then take the opportunity to summarize my reproductive history for her, as she does not have the benefit of my chart.  Healthy vaginal birth in 2009.  Partial Molar Pregnancy in 2012.  Asherman's Syndrome.  Concerns about incompetent cervix post-AS treatment in Boston.  She literally says "Oy," when I ask if I can teach my zumba class. (As long as I am not bleeding).  And then warns that she will be away for the holiday weekend.

Saturday May 25.  4 weeks 7 days, head to lab for betas.

Sunday May 26.  5 weeks pregnant.  Anxiously await call for doctor, who said she would receive my betas electronically and inform me of my progress.

Monday May 27, 8pm.  Finally receive call from Doctor.  HCG = 2439, which is good, but progesterone is low, only 10.9, which is bad.  Panic ensues. Dr. Google says it should be at least 15 - 20 is better - for a baby to survive.  Doctor will email in a prescription for oral progesterone to my local pharmacy, tells me not to worry, "I put more stake in rising HCG numbers than progesterone, yours are good," she says, clearly hearing my panic.

Monday, 9pm.  Scouring the internet for literature about the role of progesterone in a healthy pregnancy, imagine my body as a giant hormonally deficient vise crushing my baby to death.

Monday, 2 am.  Up awake imagining my baby fighting for its very survival because, have I mentioned I am hormonally deficient?

Tuesday May 28, 9am.  Arrive at Pharmacy and beg kind woman who looks at me like I am demented to rush my order, which has come through their email.

Tuesday 10am.  Take first dose of Progesterone.  Attempt to "will" myself to a zen-like calm through visualization exercises.  Imagine the cluster of cells in my uterus cheering at the added hormones now coursing through my veins.

Tuesday, 6pm.  Wow.  I am really freaking tired.