Apparently when a man leaves a frantic rambling message on fertility clinic’s after hours line it attracts someone’s attention.
Mr. But IF returned to his office after lunch, called, and about 30 seconds later my own office phone started ringing. Turns out surro-phlebotomist or someone of her vampiric ilk dropped the ball and the results never made it from hospital lab to fertility clinic. A quick call to the hospital later, and the nurse had my answers. Beta is 10.
This still doesn’t meet my clinic’s (ridiculous if you ask me) definition of “not pregnant,” but, I’m not pregnant. They wanted another redraw on Saturday, but I have my laparoscopy post-op appointment on Tuesday already scheduled so I asked to just defer until then. They agreed.
So, that’s all folks. My gallant nearly 4-year attempt at getting pregnant by having sex with my husband died today. Next stop, laparoscopy part deux. Arriving at the operating theater near me on August 20.