"You can't keep this up. You're going to combust" - wise words spoken by my husband today, when I relayed the latest to him.
Today I reached out to Dr. G, the only molar pregnancy expert in the U.S. to get his thoughts on protocol for me. I was informed that I would only really be out of the woods after a 10-week ultrasound to rule out another partial molar pregnancy. Uh, ok.
Then I (finally) spoke with Dr. H, my OB. She requested that I get an ultrasound this week solely to rule out the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy. "Your HCG is strong and your progesterone is as well. All I want to see is that there is a gestational sac in your uterus, a radiologist won't necessarily find a fetus in there so early."
"But Dr. H," I said, "didn't my HCG level raise your eyebrows? It's awfully high."
"My eyebrows stayed in place," she responded. "Your numbers weren't the highest I have seen, there's a very wide range for HCG, it can be all over the map."
So today I gave more blood, and tomorrow husband and I will be together at an ultrasound - for the first time since Niblet's discovery at 10 weeks. I have been going to these alone for many moons, and it is without any hyperbole at all that I say the trans-vaginal ultrasound is a terrifying and traumatizing experience for me. I haven't had a good one in years.
But back to the title of this post.... I see that Husband is right. There is absolutely NOTHING I can do if this pregnancy is a recurrence of a partial mole or some other rare freak of nature. And it's not like I would be smiling all easy-peasy at the 10 week mark anyways. Hell, if I make it past that, the pregnancy will continue to be a white-knuckle experience. There's no getting around it.
On my drive home today from Quest Diagnostics, I put in my zumba playlist. Amazing how a little ass-shaking music took me out of my head. I have to find a way to recreate the happy place I found on my beach vacation, despite neither having any more vacation nor beach. Maybe I need to order a pregnancy yoga DVD now. Maybe I need to get a massage, or sit in a lavender bath and pretend I am in a spa. But I have to do something other than peruse the internet for horror stories, because fuck, if I feel this anxious at only 5 weeks, I honestly won't make it to 10 with a shred of sanity.