I guess I never really realized that time would continue moving on, at the same pace, after August 2nd, transfer day. Here I am, still on my bed rest, and thinking,”Wow! The sun actually came up this morning! It’s the next day! I didn’t know that would happen.”
Honestly, you work so hard, and so intensely– to jump through all the hoops, take the tests, organize the details (the time off, the transportation, so forth), figure out the finances, arrange for the medications (and the vitamins and special foods), take them all on schedule– all to make it to transfer day. Then you are here, and there is nothing more extraordinary to do (since, by now, taking estrogen and progesterone, pre-natals and folic acid, avoiding potatoes and feta cheese all seem ordinary), except 48 hours of bed rest and taking it easy until beta tests.
It’s the all-the-sudden nothing to do that makes the 2ww so hard! If I were rushing around, trying to get the info, make the decisions, figure out the finances, arrange the details, like I was a month ago, I think that each new foolish wave of changing emotion that the lovely progesterone gives me would go by virtually unnoticed. Today I note each minuscule feeling, each twinge of a possible symptom, like it was deeply significant, and could tell me once-and-for-all if I will be able to see my Goober Peas face-to-face next April. And it’s only the first day with them!
How silly am I?
I need to get back to work!