Give or take a week or so.
Got disgusted yesterday with my due-date-less state and spent way too much time on my lunch break researching average hCG levels at 14dpo, and then extrapolating my numbers backwards for an estimated ovulation date of March 13.10 or 11. (Thanks, Kate!)
Which would make me 5w2d today. And my due date would be right around December 2.
Which sounds better than the less-than-impressive, “Um, I dunno” answer to the ‘how far along are you?’ question.
My doctor left it up to me when I’d go in for my OB exam next week. I’m actually inclined to leave it as long as possible in the hopes of seeing things more clearly on the ultrasound, but we also want to get out of town for Easter weekend. So I think I’ll go in on Wednesday. Which should be 6w2d. Which means (according to the other bits of obsessive googling I did yesterday) that a fetal sac, yolk sac, fetal pole & possibly even a heartbeat might be visible.
I still don’t feel pregnant, though, and it’s driving me nuts. I want symptoms, damnit. I want something to obsess over, and analyze. I want nausea and boobs that hurt when my husband looks at them from across the room! I want fluctuating emotions! I want pickle cravings that cannot be denied! I want to vomit when I brush my teeth!
Instead, I’m hungry. Physically, belly-rumblingly hungry. And bloated. And crampy. Proto-sprog is doing an awfully good job of imitating premenstrual syndrome right now, and let me just say it out loud – I’m not naming proto-sprog Florence, so she might as well cut it out and give me some good symptoms instead of these crappy ambiguous ones.
PIO injections have been hurting, and I’m not sure why. I wonder if I got a bad batch of needles or something? Hoping that I don’t have to stay on the meds for the entire first trimester though I will, of course, happily do whatever the good doc says at this point. I had the first of what I expect will be many ‘I’m losing the pregnancy/baby’ dreams last night. Actually, I had the first five or so, because every time I’d wake up, I’d start fresh with a new variation. Miscarriage, physically misplacing a baby, sick baby, etc. It was a fun, fun night.
And damn, I wish I could get my hCG checked every other day like last time. This whole ‘assume everything’s fine unless you have reason to think otherwise’ does not sit well with paranoid little me. Since I’m crediting the infertility meditation tapes I’ve been using with the fact that my body was able to relax enough to accomplish this, maybe I should go look for pregnancy meditation tapes now.
At least it’s not April Fools’ day anymore.