That was a false alarm.
We just took another set of images. Apparently my breast wasn't stretched thinly enough on the initial scan, resulting in a fold that resembled a questionable mass on one of the images. "Stretch away" I told the radiologist.
I physically feel like I am a million years old. In the span of 72 hours, I went from thinking:
1. Everything could be fine, this is probably a false alarm, to
2. I am going to lose my final months of ttc because I will need biopsies and scans and perhaps radiation, to
3. Maybe the universe took away my babies because somehow it knew that I would develop breast cancer, to,
4. Am I going to die in my forties?
I am still trying to bring myself down from the stress. My husband just divulged that he was "fucking scared out of his mind" - so I guess that even despite my PTSD (I had to visit the same hospital as two of my D&Cs, including my TFMR), I'm not alone in having my mind go to dangerous dark corners.
I want to thank anyone out there who sent me positive energy. Every bit helps.
Onwards. After I learn to breathe again.