We had been counting down the days until we could find out if the embryo had implanted, and if we were officially pregnant. It was extra special that my parents and brother happened to be in town that weekend, and I tried to sneak out to get my blood drawn without them catching on. Apparently, I was not fooling anyone, but I refuse to let infertility steal away my opportunity to at least TRY and surprise people!
The day passed sooooo slowly. I expected to hear from the doctors around lunch, but it was nearing the end of the business day and still no word. Regardless of the news, the plan was that I was going to pull Evan aside and tell him the news, and then we we would tell my family together. That plan became very tricky when the doctor called while we were in the car. I tried to play it cool and still ask them all the questions I wanted to. When we FINALLY got out of the car, I broke the news to Evan.
My HCG was low. Scary low. While they told me that there was a chance that it would rise appropriately, the most likely outcome is that we were having an early miscarriage.
I did not know how to process this. I expected a yes, you are pregnant or a no, the embryo did not implant. I felt like we were told some kind of scary in between. The nurse never actually said we were pregnant, and even though I knew we were, it was not the joyous news we were hoping for. Instead, I was scared that we would lose this precious little life, too.
We had not expected this kind of news, and waited until we had more time to be alone to decide what we were going to tell my family. At the time, my dad was resting at home and we had all gone sight seeing. So, we chose to rejoin my mom and brother, and walk out to see the gorgeous Snoquamie Waterfall. All the while, I was desperately praying and pleading with God to save our baby.