21 July, 2016

2WW

The second world war.
Nope.
Two wiley widows?
Nope.
Twice without water?
Nope.
There is an entire world of infertility jargon out there. I'm talking all sorts of things such as AF, BFP, BFN, AH, DE, OTD, EC, ET, FET, the list goes on. I am not the biggest fan of weird jargon acronyms. I would much rather say that I received a positive pregnancy test instead of "OMG! BFP!!!!" (We shall also ignore that I am slightly anti-exclamation point. Ask my students. They know this well.)
The only one I connect with, perhaps because it and I are close friends, is the 2WW. The two week wait. This is the term used to describe the two weeks after ovulation (and hopefully fertilization, implantation, etc.) before you know you are pregnant. These two weeks contain a rollercoaster of emotions for me. Usually I do my best to get my mind off of all things pregnancy related. This works well in the middle of a school year. This epically fails during the summertime. I had an especially rough go of things the last three days when I was on house arrest (bed rest). I sat on the couch, worked on my matter unit for science, read, did homework (aced a midterm), played a little Zoo Tycoon 2 (so glad I just admitted this to you), crafted, and painted.
(Upon sending a text to hubby excitedly declaring, "I'm painting," he promptly called me within twenty-three seconds. "Uh, what are you doing right now?" "Painting." Yeah. In his mind, I was painting our upstairs hallway. We still need to lather on a final coat. Upon realizing I was not breathing in paint fumes, balancing precariously on a chair, and being OCD about painting in a straight line, he was okay. I painted a pencil box for my classroom. It is now blue and beautiful and I have no idea why I painted it in green, pink, and gray last year. Ugly.)
Today I resumed my normal life. I have spent much more of my waking time outside of my house than inside because that is what I do. We purchased an adorable animal alphabet print for a future nursery, for goodness sakes.
Every year we buy one thing for future baby. This is not something we plan to do. ("Let's see. Next week I have scheduled that we need to purchase something for our future offspring. As good parent organisms, we better make sure we fit that in.") I have amazingly soft blankets that I bought from a company I used to work for. I have a car seat cover purchased from the same company. We have an adorable duck we bought in Berlin a couple years ago. Last year we purchased future offspring the most adorable elephant (part of the elephant is made out of a thick corduroy). Now we have the animal print. I love it, but I am starting to get worried for myself.
I am worried that I am getting my hopes up this time. After the first IUI, I received the call, responded with a, "Thank you for calling, have a great evening," told the hubby, and resumed my life. After IUI number two, I was a grump. I decided to answer my phone at school and was not a very nice teacher after that. IUI number three was the worst. It happened the day before baby sister's graduation. I will admit I cried hard enough and long enough that my eyes were still red and puffy at her ceremony the next day.
I have stopped looking up potential due dates.
I have stopped debating over buying slightly larger clothes because, "If I get pregnant, I won't be able to wear this for a long time."
I have stopped planning my future as if life will get more uncomfortable followed by six weeks of maternity leave.
It helps me deal with things when I get that phone call or I wake up to blood or I receive a "not pregnant" on my test.
Am I getting my hopes up?

No comments:

Post a Comment