Days never move so slowly as when you are waiting. And especially when you are waiting for something over which you have no control.
Saturday and Sunday and yesterday, I felt so optimistic and hopeful about the chance that at least one of our transfers might implant. This morning, I woke up and felt decidedly not pregnant. Don't get me wrong - I hadn't felt particularly pregnant any of these last three days, but today, it hit me just how not-pregnant I felt.
I woke up this morning feeling a little bloated and kind of crampy, but cannot for the life of me convince myself that this could be a good sign. I can only convince myself that it means we have already struck out this round.
I've had one person tell me that the beauty of this post-transfer wait is that I can consider myself "pregnant until proven otherwise."
I've had another person tell me that this post-transfer week of waiting was the hardest thing she had ever done.
I so wish that I could be that first person, seeing the week as full of potential and hope. But I am afraid that I'm more like that second person, feeling the days drag on so slowly, feeling defeated rather than excited.
This afternoon, I caught myself saying to myself, "I know it sucks that they still have to do the blood draw to confirm that you aren't pregnant, even though you already know that you aren't..." And I had to stop the voice in my head, because I don't know that I'm not pregnant. I have no more reason to believe I'm not pregnant than I have reason to believe that I am. I know nothing.
And there's nothing I can do to speed up the knowing. Friday is about the earliest day that anything would show up on a test, and so I'm having my bloodwork done as quickly as it could tell me anything. If I tested now, it would be negative. My body, even if I'm pregnant, wouldn't actually know that I'm pregnant in any measurable way right now.
I so hope that I wake up tomorrow with twinges in my belly, and a sore chest, and maybe a little heartburn and nausea to go with it, because at least then I'd feel hopeful again. Because what concerns me the most isn't the possibility that I'm not pregnant. What concerns me the most is the fact that I can't even muster up hope that I could be.
Saturday and Sunday and yesterday, I felt so optimistic and hopeful about the chance that at least one of our transfers might implant. This morning, I woke up and felt decidedly not pregnant. Don't get me wrong - I hadn't felt particularly pregnant any of these last three days, but today, it hit me just how not-pregnant I felt.
I woke up this morning feeling a little bloated and kind of crampy, but cannot for the life of me convince myself that this could be a good sign. I can only convince myself that it means we have already struck out this round.
I've had one person tell me that the beauty of this post-transfer wait is that I can consider myself "pregnant until proven otherwise."
I've had another person tell me that this post-transfer week of waiting was the hardest thing she had ever done.
I so wish that I could be that first person, seeing the week as full of potential and hope. But I am afraid that I'm more like that second person, feeling the days drag on so slowly, feeling defeated rather than excited.
This afternoon, I caught myself saying to myself, "I know it sucks that they still have to do the blood draw to confirm that you aren't pregnant, even though you already know that you aren't..." And I had to stop the voice in my head, because I don't know that I'm not pregnant. I have no more reason to believe I'm not pregnant than I have reason to believe that I am. I know nothing.
And there's nothing I can do to speed up the knowing. Friday is about the earliest day that anything would show up on a test, and so I'm having my bloodwork done as quickly as it could tell me anything. If I tested now, it would be negative. My body, even if I'm pregnant, wouldn't actually know that I'm pregnant in any measurable way right now.
I so hope that I wake up tomorrow with twinges in my belly, and a sore chest, and maybe a little heartburn and nausea to go with it, because at least then I'd feel hopeful again. Because what concerns me the most isn't the possibility that I'm not pregnant. What concerns me the most is the fact that I can't even muster up hope that I could be.
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