^ That is the sound the breath I'd been holding made when I released it in an exhalation of pure relief.
The mw called early (thank you, Lord) and the first thing out of her mouth after verifying it was me on the phone was, "I have good news for you!" I could hear the smile in her voice.
"Ok," I said, holding my breath (which is harder than you might imagine). My entire body is tensed, waiting. Granted she said 'good news' which I knew meant it had to be high enough to give her relief.
"6108!" she crowed.
My whole body relaxed with that sigh of relief and I started shaking. I automatically wrote it down on a post-it, as I've done with every other number. I just stared at it and told her she made my day, that it was higher than I even hoped for.
I am so fucking relieved, I can't begin to tell you.
Which means one more thing.
The thing I dread most.
The ultrasound. It is currently scheduled for next Wednesday at 9:00 am. That is on the cusp of when the mw wanted me to go and when I wanted to go. I wanted to go Friday, but the OB tech will be out of the office Thursday through Tuesday, so it was either this next Wednesday or a whole week later. It might be a wee bit early to see anything then, but I think we will. And I think my sanity would have fractured if it were an entire week later. Monday I might have managed, but that was the limit.
So, again, like with the waves of vomiting that follow a major freakout, the numbers come back to reassure me as well. So far, this has been better than textbook. I'm still terrified about what we will see or not see, but I feel relief again and I feel again, for a moment, that we might see the flicker we're looking for next week.
(oh, and because everyone should know this, after a 20 minute freak out/crying jag last night, I suddenly threw up half my dinner. Into the sink. And my most wonderful husband cleaned it up for me and tried to make me laugh because he is amazing and he loves me, though sometimes I cannot figure out why for the life of me.)