I just entered my 2ww.
That means “two week wait.” It is the dreaded period of time between ovulation and the date that you either find out you’re pregnant or your period starts.
There are no words to adequately describe this window of time. If you’re TTC, maybe some of this sounds familiar.
For the first day or so after ovulation, I’m feeling good about it. I gave it my best shot, DTD every day or every other day, depending on which method we decided to try this month, and I really think this month could be it. It’s probably not. But you never know. It could be. I sure did try!
Then day 3 hits, and I plummet to the depths of despair. I still have another week and a half to wait.
Hmm. I wonder what the earliest date is that I can take a test?
No, don’t even think about it. This month I am. going. to. wait. until. my. period. I can do this. *stares at self in mirror and gives pep talk*
Day 4. Wellll…..I’ll just take a quick peek at Countdown to Pregnancy. IF I’m pregnant, my due date would be in May. But I’m sure I’m not. But I wonder what it would be like to have a spring baby?
Day 5. I’m going to just get super busy with stuff and try not to think about it.
Day 6. I’m not pregnant. I never get positive tests, why would this month be any different? I will fall apart if I have to see another negative test. I have to wait until my period shows up. Because I know my period will show up.
Day 7. Are my boobs tender? I think I’m cramping. *gasp* Maybe it’s implantation twinges!!! No, calm down. Calm down. It’s not. Welllll…..I’ll just take a quick peek at Countdown to Pregnancy and see statistically if these symptoms tend to mean pregnancy or not.
Days 8 and 9. Torture. I alternate between being hopeful and being extremely cynical. I know that my regular PMS symptoms are nothing like this. But then again, why should I get my hopes up when I know that I will obviously never see another BFP (big fat positive) again.
Day 10. I’m obviously not going to take a pregnancy test, but I mean I am acutely aware of the fact that most tests boast the fact that you can test 5 days before your expected period. That’s today. Not that I’m counting or anything.
Day 11. I’m going to wait to test. (Five minutes later) Maybe I’ll test later today. (Five minutes later) No, I should really wait. What’s a few more days anyway? (Five minutes later) I CAN’T WAIT A FEW MORE DAYS. (pushes on bladder to see if full enough to pee yet) (Five minutes later, sets stick with sample down on the counter) I can’t look at the test. It will kill me to see a negative. I can’t handle this right now. Has it been three minutes? Ok, I’m just going to step outside the bathroom, take a few deep breaths, pray, and then go back and in and it just is what it is. (paces outside for a few minutes, then goes back in)
Test is negative. I stare at it, my soul crushing into tiny pieces. I try to hold back the tears, reminding myself that it’s still early for a positive. I pick it up and hold it closer to the light, turning it this way and that way, just in case I’m missing a faint line. But, no. It’s a very clear negative. I can’t tear my eyes off of it. That one line staring back at me, mocking me. I finally throw it in the garbage and cover it with toilet paper so I don’t have to see it.
Days 12-whenever my period starts. As much as I tell myself to stop testing, I can’t help myself. I somehow end up testing once a day, sometimes more. And each negative test is like a knife wound.
Period starts. I climb into bed and sob my heart out, dreams for another month dissolving. When I finally get out of bed, I stress eat. Who cares about my diet, it won’t matter anyway. What do these supplements matter, they aren’t helping. I don’t need to exercise anyway, I don’t have a baby to be healthy for.
Period is over. Deep breaths. I can do this. Let’s try another month. Hope slowly builds up again, I work out, take my supplements, and get back to my diet. It’s a new month and a new chance.