Can you imagine having to pretend for 2 weeks of every month for 39 months in a row that you’re pregnant? 39 months…that’s 1220 days. That means for a total of approximately 20 months of my life, I’ve had to pretend to be pregnant without ever being pregnant. With that many months of being pregnant, I could have popped out 2.22 babies by now!
Oftentimes, at this point of the month, I’m afraid to hope because I don’t want to be more disappointed. You put up a guard because without one, the crushing disappointment is often too heard to bear. I often wonder if I have the emotional resilience to survive another failure and start over again the next month.
But then I get my period, which as contradictive as it sounds - is almost a relief. I’m so anxious, but then have a sense of peace because at least it’s a definite answer. And I can try to look forward to the next month. Nevertheless, I seem to find enough renewed strength and hope to at least try. Even though “trying” can mean very different things in every different month!
After the two-week-waiting game, (I’m so sick of playing this game!) starts what I call the “almost-two-week-at-least-you-know” phase. A little under 2 weeks that you definitely know you’re not pregnant. It’s about two weeks of being able to do what you want. Get in that hottub, drink that wine, and indulge in some extra caffeine.
I’ll patiently wait, I’ll not so patiently wait…no matter what, I’m waiting…
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