My betas doubled in 48 hours.
I have an ultrasound scan scheduled for early next week, when I should be somewhere in the sixth week. My ambitious RE, Dr. K, apparently hopes to see a heartbeat on the screen, though she has assured me that I will have a follow-up scan a few days later if we don't see one.
This will be about as much fun as a root canal (which I thankfully, have never experienced, but from everything my mother tells me, it's an apt comparison). Speaking of mothers, I haven't told mine yet about this foray into hormone land.
If there was an award for getting through the day whilst attempting to forget your own pregnancy, I might just win. I spent much of the weekend focused on something that is actually in my control: getting my house clean.
In case anyone is wondering, I have no gut feelings at all about this that are positive. Statistically speaking, this pregnancy should fail, like so many of the others. True, I am extremely tired, but I'm not really queasy. Though if I recall correctly, I didn't really feel the effects of my pregnancy with Celine until I was somewhere in my fifth week along. So on those moments when I can't delude myself into avoiding the topic, I do worry that the lack of morning sickness is a sign of things to come.
Time will tell, right?