I hate everybody a lot or "Pregnancy hormones: American HELLthcare version"

Well, I've had a very eventful weekend, which I will tell you all about below in great detail. I am OK, the fetus is OK, but damned if I don't feel pulled through the wringer and angry with, like, everybody in the world right now (saving y'all, of course).

My doctor was supposed to get back to me on Friday morning with the results of my progesterone test. She didn't by noon, so I called her office. She told me she would call me back between 1 and 4. I waited until 3:30 and called back. They were closed for the long weekend! No results for me.

So I just told myself that I would have a long weekend, and get my results on Tuesday. Sunday I went to a friend's cookout, and had a wonderful time. After having been there for three hours or so I went to the bathroom and (WARNING: I AM ABOUT TO TALK ABOUT MUCUS) when I wiped, I noticed a glob of faint pinky-yellow mucus on the tissue. I knew this was probably normal, but anyway, I got James and we left and I tried to call my doctor's answering service to check it was OK. Oh, except she doesn't have an answering service. "Go to urgent care," said the message on the machine, so I went, and urgent care wouldn't see me and sent me to the EMERGENCY ROOM instead.

At this point, I am pretty sure this is a tempest in a teapot, but once you have started the emergency room process and you are pregnant and you mention bleeding, certain things have to happen. You get a pelvic exam. You get a ton of blood taken. You get a sonogram. You get an IV. You get to wait in a curtained off room for four hours while a person pukes in the room next to you, all the time wearing a thin gown with no back. Oh, and if you're really lucky? You get to do all this with your MOTHER IN LAW there.

James made the mistake of calling his mom to ask exactly where the Alexandria Inova Hospital was, since we are in criminal good health and have never been there. She told us, and we drove there. Then I'm waiting to check in and D. runs up, like, what are you doing here? Nobody asked you to come. And we would have, if we had wanted you here. But we didn't. So can you please go home? "I'd prefer to stay," she says, all reverse Bartleby the Scrivener. And I could not get her to leave. I thought at least she would wait in the waiting room, but when the nurse took me back she barged along with us and into my cube and sat down beside my bed and DIDN'T LEAVE for four hours. I tried to politely ask her to leave and she just didn't get it, or was deliberately obtuse about it, saying, "Oh, I don't mind staying. I'm so worried!" And then I felt like I couldn't be rude to her and be like, "NO. You really HAVE to go."

I know she was concerned and I am trying really hard to focus on that, but it was so humiliating and upsetting to have her there. I am so embarrassed that my MIL saw my bare ass. And it angered me that she kept trying to give my information to the doctor. She doesn't know a thing about my medical history, and she's not "Mom," like she told all the doctors and nurses, so that they thought she was my mom. She had to be literally pushed from the room when I was having my pelvic exam.

So I was mad at her for not taking the hint and leaving, and I was mad at James for not asking her to leave, and I am mad at my doctor for never calling me back with my test results and then I got to be mad at the sonogram lady, who tells me that she can't find anything on the sonogram and am I sure I'm really pregnant? Not what you want to hear when you are in that position, that there's no baby and maybe never was one. "Or it could be too early," she says like it just occurred to her, after I've started sobbing. Maybe you could have started with that? Way to bury the lead, lady.

Long story short: they diagnosed me with a threatened miscarriage, even though I only had that one clump of pink mucus, but the way I understand it is that they only did that because it was too early, maybe, at 4w5d, to find a sac or fetal pole on sonogram. Or else there's not one there and I really am in trouble? I don't know. My pregnancy hormone is detectable and doubling so that's a good sign. It was 302 on Thursday at my OB's, and it was 995 on Sunday night. I had blood taken today and if its gone up, we're happy. My progesterone is 14.1, and it has to be higher than 9. So, fine? Or low, but not dangerous? I don't know, and I wish I could get a straight answer out of anybody, but I can't because everyone seems to talk in circles. "The higher it is obviously the better but you know there's a threshold and yours is above that so that's good, but everything is different, of course, and you probably don't have any reason to worry, unless…" WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? YES OR NO? GIVE ME A THUMBS UP OR THUMBS DOWN, for crying out LOUD!!!!

The doctor told me I "shouldn't worry at this point" and that really there would be no way to see anything on a sonogram until 6 weeks, and that everything is "probably fine," and that's going to have to suffice, I guess. I haven't had anymore spotting or pink mucus since the first and only instance of it on Sunday, and I am still pretty sure that everything is OK, but even so I feel like everyone in the world is conspiring to strip all the joy from this situation that they can and I hate them for that.

And I really hate my mother in law. I shouldn't use the word "hate," but honestly, I think I probably do hate her right now. I don't know where she got this notion that she has lifetime front row seats to every single event in my life. I feel like if she could have, she would have wanted to be there when the baby was conceived. This has to freaking stop or I will seriously strangle her, and I'll probably get off due to my temporary pregnancy insanity right now and now I have to stop. Because this idea is sounding really, really, too great to me right now. Please send prayers both for my little guy and for me, so that I don't actually cause bodily harm to anybody. These hormones are starting to be murder.