Between an unknown and a soft place.

(With the soft place being last Friday's wonderful ultrasound, and the unknown being next Friday's ________ ultrasound, adjective yet to be determined.)

It seems the longest I can go without being overwhelmed by fear about this second attempt at baby is three or four days. That's the duration between the third nicely increasing blood test result and the temperature-dropping misadventure, as well as between the pretty-yolk-sac-revealing ultrasound and an "I just don't feel pregnant" episode on Monday (for your benefit, not recorded here) that put me on the brink of calling to see if I could move up next week's appointment to ensure that what had been visible last Friday was still there, only bigger and better.

In the end, I didn't, because there would be no reason for it other than to diminish my anxiety, and that's something I need to learn to do on my own. To that end, there are two things I'm trying to teach myself.

First, that the kind of reassurance given by blood draws or ultrasounds is temporary for a reason – because neither predict the future. They provide a snapshot in time, of that specific moment in time, but give no guarantee of results to follow. For that reason, I think, they easily become addictive as one seeks "just one more" confirmation that all is still okay. In the end, it either will be okay or it won't, and that can't be changed at all by any number of past reassurances.

Second, that it serves no good purpose to over-analyze symptoms, or lack thereof. Generally speaking, lack of symptoms does not necessarily mean a non-progressing pregnancy, just as presence of symptoms does not necessarily indicate a successfully progressing pregnancy (which is especially cruel). This becomes apparent on a more personal basis as I compare this time around to the last one:

• Last time: boobs were much bigger and so sore I couldn't go without support, even while sleeping.
• This time: boobs are still the same size and are sore only if I poke 'em.
• Last time: belly was nicely rounded – pure bloat, but nicely rounded nonetheless.
• This time: belly is as flat as ever.

Symptoms-wise, it seemed a bit more promising the last time around, didn't it? But then, consider:

• Last time: no yolk sac; hCG at 34dpo (6w6d) was a terribly low 773.
• This time: beautiful little yolk sac; hCG is doubling ahead of pace and was 7270 at 23dpo (5w2d), almost ten times higher than the last round's 34dpo figure.
• Last time: the only birth that resulted was that of this blog.
• This time: ... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Thus it seems clear that I shouldn't put very much thought at all into presence or lack of symptoms.

So the new strategy includes: breathe in, breathe out ... and go to bed. If I hadn't just forbidden myself to analyze every little thing I've been feeling (or not), I'd say that this incredible fatigue overwhelming me these last days is a very good sign indeed.