Thank you, Jesus.
After ranting and raving and losing my shit for awhile, I had a sudden sense of peace fall over me. I was able to concentrate on work and just had this feeling that I needed to have faith in faith, and not faith in numbers. Just believe that everything is ok.
It was nice. It lasted through the point I expected them to call (as the birth center closes at 4), and I resigned myself to waiting until tomorrow to hear back. DH was impressed at my resignation, but I just felt calm.
And then, out of nowhere, the phone rang and it was my mw. Well, technically, it was the other midwife who I had nasty thoughts about. I take a few of them back, as she stayed late to get the result and call me.
Two fucking hundred and fucking ninety.
Holy shit y'all. It more than doubled - that is a doubling rate of 37.3 hours.
I'm pregnant. And so far - it's perfect. Right on track in the median range for betabase. I am so fucking relieved, I am near tears.