Thursday, January 8, 2015

Two Week Wait

I think one of the hardest parts of infertility is the Two Week Wait (also known as the TWW).  You've monitored your cycle to the point of ridiculous.  You've taken crazy medicines that mess with your emotions.  You've likely given yourself a shot....or two....or fifty (Or in my case acted like a baby while my husband gave me my one trigger shot.  Lord help me if we do IVF and I have to have a shot daily.).  You've had your procedure.  For me that's the lovely IUI (intrauterine insemination) and the oh-so fun cramping that accompanies it.  You've been busy for two weeks, and now all there's left to do is wait.  Sit and do nothing.  And wait.


Seriously.  We can are freaking sending rockets to outer space for the soul purpose to colonize Mars, but we can't find a way to shorten this stupid waiting game!  UGH!  (I almost compared our lack of technology in the TWW to putting a man on the moon, but that's so 1985.  {Please read that with a valley girl accent.  It's how I'm saying it in my head.}  I needed to be overly dramatic in my comparison, because in the waiting, everything feels overly dramatic.  And, let's be honest, because I have a tendency to be on the overdramatic side of life at times.  So in my quest for a really impressive comparison, I asked Michael, "What is the most amazing feat of technology you think we have created as a human race?".  His response?  "The plunger."  I have no words.  And I came up with my own comparison.  Mars it is.)

Back to the point of this post...when we leave the doctor's office after our IUI, hopes are always high.  There's a nurse at our office that is an Alabama fan, so Michael loves her.  She always leaves us by telling us to call her when we're pregnant.  She's always so positive.  I tell Michael I need to call her every day for the TWW to keep my hopes up.

What I always struggle with during this time of waiting is how to prepare myself mentally and emotionally.  I've had cycles where I've laid in bed at night and let my mind wander to how I'm going to finally tell my family I'm pregnant.  How will I tell Michael?  What names do we love?  What color will the nursery be?  What happens if my water breaks at school?   And on and on.

Full of hope.

But when the negative pregnancy test inevitably comes, I am DEVASTATED.

So then there are cycles when I tell myself over and over that I'm not pregnant.  It didn't work.  I'm better off to just prepare my mind for the worst so it doesn't hurt as much when I get the negative test.  Look forward to that big cup of Starbucks that I'll be able to enjoy on Cycle Day 1.  Michael says I'm a Negative Nancy.  A Debbie Downer.  But how do I protect my heart from the pain of another month passing and another negative pregnancy test?

Truth is, it doesn't help.  Even in my Debbie Downer cycles something will be different.....something will feel different.... and I'll think, "What if this is it?"  Every different feeling or experience could be a pregnancy symptom.  A seed of hope always manages to creep in.

So what do we do to keep positive in the waiting, but to protect our hearts?  If you have an answer, I'd love to hear from you.  How do we keep our hopes high, knowing our Jesus hears our cries and He sees our tears, and He has a plan....even when we can't see it?

On a completely ridiculous note, yesterday at my acupuncture appointment, she put a needle right in the top of my head!  I tried to take a picture.  I almost laughed out loud at myself.  Can you see the blue needle sticking out?  Oh, the hoops we're willing to jump through.  :-)

1 comment:

  1. I don't think I ever connected with you and told you how much I love this post! I loved this part - "A seed of hope always manages to creep in....How do we keep our hopes high, knowing our Jesus hears our cries and He sees our tears, and He has a plan....even when we can't see it?" I think that some cycles, a seed of hope is all we need to remind ourselves of His power and goodness. We WANT to feel hope, even though it's such a scary and vulnerable place. But can you imagine doing all of this without hope? I couldn't. I would be the bitterest, grumpiest person in the world. Continuing to pray for you, sending lots of love!