the end of a shitty weekend.

Friday: Beta #1 bloods in at 7am. The waiting game begins...3pm the nurse calls. "Your numbers are low. 39 in fact, so not low low but still low. Your progesterone is even lower." No mention that I ASKED for supplemental progesterone and they poo poo'd me. So thanks for the script now that it's likely too late.

Saturday: Drove up to the land. Wondering all day AM I or AM I NOT? Put two leaves in the water to say hello to Tess and Oliver. Talked a little bit about the house we hope to build. Got stung by two hornets that were pissed I walked through their hive. Build it in a fucking tree or at least off the fucking ground next time. Fuckers.

Sunday: Beta #2 bloods in at 9am. Distracted from the waiting game by hanging out with friends for some breakfast. And playing with their boy who is a very bright spot in our lives. Home to play the waiting game from 12-3. Phone rings too many times in those three hours...all false alarms. 3:15 nurse calls. "Your numbers dropped. Looks like it's not going to work out this time. Stop taking the progesterone (that we gave you too late) Call Dr. S for a follow-up."

Shot my theory 'they call all the bad-news-receivers first' right outta the fucking water.

shitty shitty shitty.