So I defy even the most optimistic of you to feel good about this. Beta=2. My body clearly couldn't get round to giving a resounding negative, so it gives us a level of 2. Which means I'm supposed to go back in in a week for another test, which I find somewhat ridiculous. It's not because they think I might be a tiny bit pregnant, thank heavens, it's just so they've got a zero on the books. Even Dr Condescending said gently: I'll leave it up to you, Thalia, but we'd prefer you to come in, just so we can close off on this cycle properly.
Actually what I reckon is my body gives a low level positive on these tests anyway. On that first cycle the level on 10dp3dt, after 2 days of bleeding, was 5, and a week later the level was 2, when presumably it should have been zero. Certainly that time they didn't make me come back for another test. So I'm not convinced that the level of 2 today means anything at all. But I guess I'll be compliant and go for another test, if only for the scientific interest.
I did of course collapse into floods after I hung up on Dr Condescending. There is always that little tiny bit of hope left, but no, now the fat lady has most definitely sung. I was walking across Hyde Park when the call came, so I called H, then just kept walking. I spent some time by the round pond, having geese honk at me, remembering my grandmother as it's where she and I used to walk together. Then I walked on to a little deli, bought some good bread and cheese, and walked on home. Sadly I was not wearing walking shoes as I went to a posh conference this morning, so now my feet hurt. A lot. But it was a pretty, blustery day and I wanted to walk. Hyde Park was nice and empty so it didn't really matter that the tears kept rolling down my face.
It's really over.