I went in to donate another vile of blood to analysis yesterday afternoon. The shirt that I was wearing wouldn't roll up past my elbow, so I took it off. Stellar planning on my part. Everything was normal- gauze and pressure, then new gauze and tape, shirt back on. I was exiting the lobby when I thought my arm felt wet. Yeah, clotting? Not so much. I had blood running all down my arm. Apparently my vein felt cheated having to stop at just one vile. (Bonus Tip courtesy of my OB office: hydrogen peroxide gets blood out of a dark purple shirt.)
Today, good news/not so good news. I just got a call from the nurse that I've been anticipating all day. My HCG levels seem to be behaving themselves, but my progesterone is down. Delightful-sounding supplements are currently waiting for me at the pharmacy. (High Fives for the details on what to expect from Stirrup Queens Operation Heads Up.) Nurse B (who I love- she's a no-nonsense kind of girl with personal knowledge of IF) said that the baby's levels are fine, but we need the progesterone to help sustain the pregnancy. Those last three words send me into all kinds of nervous fits.
And now for something completely different...
aah0424 at A Somewhat Ordinary Life tagged me earlier today and I'm supposed to list what I think of when I see the following words:
My biggest concern. Now that I finally have something alive in me again, I am overwhelmed by the wait to find out progress and the emotional weight that this process brings.
Can I get a definition and origin for this word? I slept over nine hours last night and should have some serious energy. Um...no. I still had to verbally abuse the alarm clock this morning. Possibly because I only got three hours the night before, but whatever.
The song I heard this morning on my way to work.
"You say you want a revolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world..."
The picture on my desktop cracks me up. It has three drawings: Rock. Paper. Scissors. The caption underneath says, "Choose Wisely."