So I go back and forth between it hasn’t worked, to feeling excited and confident. Sometimes, I even give it to the universe to settle. I’ve done my part. I gave it the old learning the multiple tables try and know with certainty that I’m relieved of any guilt of any wrong doing in this journey towards mother hood. I have to be my number one ardent supporter, otherwise the descent into zombie hood will be complete.
I know I’m not alone. I read other blogs of women on this maddening journey and often times wonder why no one has made a movie about the trials and tribulations of IVF. One woman went through IVF 7 times before a BFP. 7 times. This number alarms me to no end. I admire her courage and fortitude. Another woman became pregnant with twins at 41 (first IVF). Where is the fairness between the first woman and the second? Some women after years of trying to succeed, state that once it happened all the struggle became worth it. There is comfort in this declaration.
I re-read through my writing, trying to decipher whether I’m hopeful or resigned, and as I read I check my intuition and know that I’m surprisingly calm. I’ve been sleeping soundly for 8-10 hours per day. Vivid dreams rush through my synapses upon waking. Always there is a child or things that come in twos. Two hats, two presents, two babies. I’m calm because this is the only thing I can count on.
So I won’t test until Saturday because I’ve made that promise to myself and to my husband. There is no reason to go through disappointment twice or as many times as one decides to pee on a stick. Of course, one positive test is all it takes. Just one to make it all worth it.