That's where I am right now - waiting to cycle. Marking time. Desperately trying to focus on our upcoming vacation... home projects... filling out paperwork, gathering medical files for our second opinion... planning a blogger reunion. Trying to forget that I lost what could have been our child almost exactly a year ago. And trying to ignore the nagging belief that I'm no closer to having a family than I was a year ago (from Serenity Now!).
I learned the hard way that letting myself get excited only leads to heartache. I hide my HPT's so that my husband doesn't know that I've POAS. I finally realized that I can't be POAS-crazy because that's letting hope get the best of me. Focusing on what I have and how lucky (truly lucky, I know that) I am to have it are what gets me through (from Search for Biscuit 2.0).
Diagnosis was easy, one little surgery to chop out the endo and make my womb welcoming. It didn't work, and my insurance company doesn't care. And to preserve any bit of fertility I may have, I'm on birth control, the exact opposite of everything I want. A year of waiting, which may end with no new options: this might have to be the life I live forever. I try so hard to find the good in it, but it's like doing extra chores as a kid to save up money for a new bike--only worth it because of the end result. I don't know if I can handle it if there is no end result (from Making Toy Soldiers).
I distract myself by obsessing about baby things. Baby gear, baby books, baby diapers. Or maybe obsessing over my upcoming cycle(s), planning dates and keeping detailed notes on every. little. thing. But I just have to keep focusing on the good things... there are too many fears lurking right below the surface (from Relaxing Doesn’t Make Babies).
When I am waiting, whether between cycles, or during a cycle, or a two week wait, it's easy for everything not fertility related to feel like pointless filler that's just dragging on and on. At the same time, I can't believe how long I've been trying. Over two years have gone by with nothing to show for it (from Southern Infertility).
Perhaps there is no single word or emotion that can capture the myriad of emotions that stream through my mind between tests. The waiting between appointments feels like an eternity, and I busily attempt to distract myself as I wait for the results. After my very first test, my hopes of an easy fix were shattered. The hope that I felt between my first blood draw and HSG dissipated when I learned that I have a bicornuate uterus. It was replaced with anxiety and fear. Now, I find myself once again waiting between tests, and I am both nervous and excited. What can I say? My tornado of emotions continues to spin (from Are We There Yet?).
When my ovulation was confirmed via ultrasound the day after I ovulated with no signs, I was given the choice to go through with a late IUI or do a natural cycle or abstain completely and wait it out. I turned down the late IUI, but I was on the fence about waiting or a natural cycle. My instincts said wait, but my impatient self said "go natural." So, we went with the natural cycle. As I was in the two week wait, I had this nagging instinct that I had made the wrong decision--I should have waited the cycle out. Of course, my instincts were proven right when I got that BFP then started bleeding shortly after. I should have waited... But, the mixed blessing in this is that I know now why I am miscarrying--had I followed my instincts, would I have found out why I am miscarrying? (from My Many Blessings).
The waiting is never easy for me. You would think that after trying for so long I would get used to waiting, but I never really do. However, when I am waiting and not doing something, I do have days of utter despair and hopelessness, but I have many more days of just allowing myself to think that my happy ending is coming. To see the signs and push on. I said that I allow myself the privilege because that is how I think of it, that when I think the good thoughts I am allowing myself to enter the “club,” to make myself one of the crowd. To believe I belong there (from Kir’s Corner).
My loss is so recent that I still can't be around pregnant women. I avoid newborns and conversations of pregnancy. Now I am pregnant again and I am scared. I don't want to lose another baby. I am having difficulty getting excited or even hopeful. Even once I make it past the 10 week mark, I now know I won't be safe until the baby is born and even then something may happen (from Diary of a Miscarriage).
I find I don't have a 'system' anymore like distracting myself, POAS (or not) or thinking positive...each day of the two week wait feels as though I'm moving closer and closer to my execution (okay, that may be an exaggeration...but it definitely gets me closer and closer to the death of my hopes and dreams about parenthood)...I'm glad I still get to wait, in a general sense, but I dread every fucking minute of it... (from You’re Still Young!).
Every cycle I can describe as hurry up and wait. There was the wait to meet with the RE, the wait for the next period, the wait for the test results, the wait for the surgery, and on and on. We couldn't make plans more than two or three days out because we were always waiting for something. Yesterday, I waited and waited for my test results. Today, I'm waiting for my sono appointment tomorrow. Then, more waiting. And all of that on top of the years of waiting to be pregnant. I'm tired of waiting (from Our Own Creation).
I am so excited and hopeful right now as we get ready to start a new cycle. We're adding injectibles this time, which comes with its own worries, but does add a little more hope that it might actually WORK this time. Even with that hope in my heart, there is still a huge block of dread in my head telling me that it won't work, or if it does, I'll end up with another miscarriage. With infertility, there's no hope without dread (from Karaoke Diva).
I use reverse psychology: I really don't want another baby. It doesn't matter what kind of "wait." It could be the two week wait; it could be the wait before starting up stims; it may even be the moment before I use the HPT. Even after two years of using this exercise, I'm just as devastated when I find out that there WON'T be another baby from the failed cycle, which proves my reverse psychology makes me a blatant liar (from TKO…More or Less).
It's all about waiting, waiting for ovulation, the two week wait and then waiting again. Life seems to be on hold waiting for the baby we want so desperately before it can start again (from Third Time Lucky).
I count days, recount days, days post ovulation, days until I can pee on a stick, calculate if pregnant when I would be due, calculate if not pregnant every step of the next cycle. I rehearse Plan A, Plan B, Plan C of possible scenarios. I think about Schrodinger's Cat (from The I Word).
I can spend an entire workday staring at my charts and notes from previous cycles. It's a ridiculous waste of time. My rational side is perfectly aware of how CRAZY I'm behaving, but by 9DPO, even my rational side has given in (from Peace of Mind Is All I Want).
I've been realizing more and more lately that we're in this for the long haul. I thought at first that we might get pregnant quickly with treatment, but now we're on our fifth medicated cycle. I'm trying to take control of my life in other ways and trying not to let infertility rule me. I've realized that I don't want to look back on years of my life and realize that I was unhappy all the time due to our struggles. There are times I will be sad, yes, but I want there to be more times that I feel peace and joy (from Southern Comfortable).
I do research for a living, so it's so hard not to go crazy with it now. Any papers that may have relevant information are on my desk, websites are bookmarked, and books are bought/borrowed. I read every minute I have time. When I'm not reading, I sit and knit--at least I'm creating something that way (from A Sibling for Celia).
Every time I have allowed myself to hope for something to go well, it crashes and burns. Surely this surgery will be the cure. Surely it's just a minor setback. Everything has gone so well this cycle, maybe just maybe this is the time! It seems that optimism only breeds disappointment, while pessimism... Well, I still wind up disappointed, but it's a shorter trip (from Tomorrow is Another Day).
I feel like I'm wasting so much time just waiting to get started. I don't know if I'm what would be considered infertile, but I do know that I have low progesterone or borderline ovulation so I am going to be using Clomid. It drives me crazy waiting because what if it takes a long time and I'm already almost 37. What if Clomid doesn't work and I have to move on to something else, then what? (from I Want to Be a Mommy).
I fully resign myself to IVF psychosis from ER to beta. So let's see... characteristics of a psychotic person... 1) loss of contact with reality (like thinking I am rational? check) 2) personality changes (check, check!!) 3) disorganized thinking (check) 4) delusional thinking (ooo, like thinking my ferts will actually become viable blasts? check). I think the only one I am missing is hallucinations...I do believe I hear my husband yelling "check" from the other room :) (from Rotten Eggs).
After the last time I thought I was pregnant and was subsequently stunned by the negative beta, I decided to try to hope, but not give in to expectation--even when all the symptoms are there and it would be so easy to believe. I'm still not ready to give up hoping that "this time could be the miracle," but to protect my heart, I have to stop expecting it to happen. The disappointment is way too devastating (from This is NOT What I Ordered).
It helps me to manage my hope if I pretend that there isn't any chance of this working. Someone said recently that fertile women don't give this much emotional reserve to the two week wait, so why should we? I agree with that, and I'm trying to not obsess over it anymore (from Outlandish Notions).
After two years, one late miscarriage, two early miscarriages, failed treatments and heartache, I am unreasonably hopeful that this one will stick. I wish I could go to sleep and wake up in my second trimester with a healthy fetus (from Scrambled Eggs).
We had a sonogram done to confirm the latest pregnancy. We saw a pregnancy sac with nothing in it and we felt the floor drop from underneath us. I was 99% certain that this meant I'd be scheduling another d&c, but the doctor wanted to wait a week and check again, just to be absolutely sure. I left almost all hope in the hands of everyone else, although a tiny little sliver kept me from completely giving in. It was such a haunting week. I felt disconnected from everything around me; trying to convince myself to face reality while still holding onto the impossible chance that reality could be wrong. Impossibility did triumph, and I know that I've never been more elated- I reclaimed my heart a week later when we saw a tiny beating (beautiful) blob (from Well, Now That We’re Here).
During the wait, the two week wait, the wait to cycle, and the wait for results, I panic about being successful and grieve about failures. I wish that it wasn't like this and I cry--I cry a lot (from From Here to Maternity).
I can convince myself of anything--that it is all for naught and I'm foolish to think it will work or that the due date will be on... (from The Egg Timer).
I feel helpless, there is nothing else I can do but second guess myself and pray that there is still hope. It is the worst part of the entire process, moreso than the shots and vaginal ultrasounds and even surgery (from Sean and Mary’s Family).
As the donor for my close friend, I know how much is hanging on this cycle. I panic I will do something wrong that will stop it from working (from Have Eggs, Will Share).
When bad news looms, your mind goes round and round in circles. You know it's inevitable, but you still hope for a reprieve (from Beaten, But Not Bowed).