Oh. Oh oh oh. The baby is still there- or at least, there's a visible sac, and it's where it should be, not descending into my cervix or anything ominous. My hcg is really good, too, 4300.
Initially, the doctor said she wasn't even going to try a sonogram since it was so early, which of course left me wilted with disappointment. She just examined me to make sure my cervix wasn't opening, and did a culture of the blood left near my cervix. She then left the room, told me to get dressed, and went to see if my lab results had gotten faxed yet. A few minutes later the nurse came back in, informing me I had to undress again because my hcg was so high the doctor thought maybe she would be able to see something in my uterus, after all. And indeed she did. A lovely, lovely blob of baby material.
And now I will go collapse on my Victorian fainting couch and sniff smelling salts for the rest of the afternoon, if you don't mind. Good grief, what an emotional wringer. So much for avoiding stress. I feel like a limp noodle after the last fifteen hours of my emotions zinging from sobbing in despair to shaking with relief. Happy, fun times.