Let's all go to Gullah Gullah Island

I went to the midwife** on Monday for my first prenatal, which was pretty uneventful, other than the three sticks it took for the Quest technician to draw my blood.  "It hurts me more than it hurts you," she said.  "I hate when I have to stick twice, and it kills me when I have to stick three times."  

Uh huh.  I'm pretty sure it definitely hurts me more.  

Yesterday, the nurse calls back with the results - glucose is good, HIV is negative, obviously, beta hormone levels are at 2800, which according to her is "Much too low to sustain a six week pregnancy," and i'd have to come in on Thursday for a second blood draw to ensure properly rising hormone levels.  Since I was in the waiting room at a different (and unrelated) doctors office, I cut the conversation short, and by the time I was finished with that doctor, the midwife had left the building.  Sadface.  

The midwife called bright and early this morning, and cheerfully announced that my hormone levels were 2800, but she thought I was closer to 4 weeks than 6 weeks anyway, and that I could come in the have them checked again, if I wanted.  

Excuse me?  

I spent a good portion of yesterday moping around, because as most of you know, or I guess maybe you don't, I was less than excited by the news of this pregnancy.  And by less than excited I mean threw-myself-down-on-the-bed-bemoaning-my-existence-and-swearing-my-life-is-ruined.  I've since come around, and now the new baby has a nickname - Binya Binya.  And everyone knows that once something is named it's officially part of the family.  It's become a little more real, and acceptable to me, and I suddenly felt guilty, as if I wished negative things on the baby in the midst of my pity party sob fest.  

Anyway, since I still entirely feel pregnant, and continue to get more crabby and cranky as the day goes on, I am assuming all is well.  But I'm still going to get the numbers checked - just in case ;)  

**  Haha, look at me all having a midwife instead of a doctor.  Fancy pants.  I wanted to have the baby at home with an even crunchier midwife, and completely avoid all this hoopla, but it got the swift and stern veto from everyone I brought it up to.  Boo.