Dr. Text was not happy with the spotting. “I’m not happy with the spotting.” he said, frowning at us across the desk.
Sea and I were both at Clinic One for the third beta this morning. I woke up early, I haven’t been sleeping well, and was quietly showering when I saw Sea stumble out of bed. I assured her that she didn’t have to join me on this early morning bloodletting jaunt, but she was determined to be there for one of the few visits where she didn’t have to be at her office instead.
My favourite blood drawing miracle worker was on shift and greeted me by name before I had even had time to sign in on the clipboard. I quickly drank some holy water before following her to the familiar room. She efficiently took blood from my arm, and I asked her to make the numbers high for me.
Soon after, a brusque Dr. Text called us into an office. Clinic One was closing early that morning, for a reason left unexplained, and Dr. Text was clearly in a hurry. “We have a couple of questions,” I began politely. “First of all, weren’t my first two betas high?” “No.” he responded, “Next question.” Well then. I asked about the spotting, which he took more time on. The spotting has ceased over the past day and a half (knock on wood), and I was beginning to reassure myself that it might be okay. Dr. Text took a much more pessimistic approach. “I’m not happy with the spotting,” he said, frowning at us across his desk. I was thrown off by this sterner version of Dr. Text, not knowing how to respond to his frown or the most depressing pep talk that followed. He explained that miscarriages happen, that if one did happen it wouldn’t be my fault, that a bad egg or bad sperm was to blame. The most awkward doctor-patient conversation then began, as he inquired about factors that may have influenced the spotting. “No penetration, of course, with anything.” he began. “And when you use the progesterone, do you use lubricant? Are you wet enough naturally?” I answered his questions, simultaneously hoping that I wasn’t blushing and considering how unlikely it was that I would find myself talking to a man about penetration, lube and the relative moistness of my vagina. As Justin Bieber says: never say never.
Hours later, Nurse Brittany called. My HCG level is a (very) healthy 2633 at 19 days past ovulation.
On a different note, Sea and I have a question. When did you/would you tell people about a pregnancy? Friends, parents, extended family, coworkers, bus drivers, cats, etc.?