You who, like me, have been on the TTC journey for some time now will know what I mean. I need to find a way to tell my heart about the schedule I have planned for it–it seems unaware.
Heart, we need to talk. Things can’t go on like this. Look, I’ve drawn up a schedule for you. For four days after the start of AF–especially when confirmed by a BFN–you are allowed to grieve and mourn, sigh and ache. Longings and pangs at this point may be overwhelming, but are understandable. I accept that.
After CD 5, however, my foolish heart, it is your responsibility to begin to feel excitement and hope, to anticipate joy. You are, whether you know it or not, preparing a new egg. A new chance. Heart, now it’s time to turn your thoughts to the future, and to calmly consider what may, now, come to be: when ovulation will happen, and how to catch the egg.
Heart, here’s where you’ve been dropping the ball. You keep moping, reaching into the last months, the last years, and borrowing yesterday’s pain. What good does that do? Calmness and peaceful strength is what you need, not wallowing in despondency and hopelessness and self-pity until that positive OPK.
Yes, there it is–the next stage of the schedule. The LH surge. Heart, here I want you to giggle with excitement, and blush with anticipation. You get to DTD. At least EOD. Can’t you remember why that might be fun? Instead, what are you doing? You schedule baby-making like it was taking out the trash. “We have to get it done before 6am today, Sweetheart. Otherwise we’ll miss it.” Ugh.
And now the positive fades on the OPK, and the BBT goes up. I can understand why you panic to take your temps just right for those 3-4 days. You even take it a few extra times. That’s okay. But after that, I want you to calm down again. I know you’re getting flooded with progesterone, but that’s a good thing, right? That doesn’t mean you have to be crazy, does it? Think about it this way: you’ve already done all the work (if you can call it that). Now it’s just the wait. You have every reason to expect good news, eventually, right?
But no. Here’s where you really take advantage, Heart. One minute you toss me up in the air with certainty of expectation, the next you crash me down into a pit far below-ground, equally certain of doom. For a few hours. Barely a twinge, or a vivid dream, and you propel me up above the clouds, only to crash again. What is that all about? Yes, you’re in the 2ww, but listen to me–YOU REALLY CAN’T KNOW whether you are pregnant or not until AF is supposed to come. What’s the point of agonizing? I realize that Jolene Schmoe got a BFP with Test B at 7 dpO, but taking a Test B at 7 dpO is NOT going to make you pregnant. Or not pregnant.
Okay. Now the 2ww is finally over. AF is officially one day past due. Now is a good time to be cautiously optimistic. Keep a little secret smile of “maybe.” And be ready to hope again for next month. Is that how you react?
Not at all. These are the things that convince me that you are off your rocker, Heart. For what conceivable reason is your total concentration engaged with doom and gloom? CP’s and m/c’s and ectopics–is that really all you can imagine, when you dream these days of a second line? At 8 dpO, you wanted to take an HPT like it would save your life. Now that you’re 15 dpO, you can’t even open the box? Come on. This is “just do it” time.
So, Heart, to sum it up: give up the drama. It’s getting you nowhere and it’s driving me nuts. Here’s your schedule: 1–AF, grieve a bit; 2–follicular phase, gentle anticipation; 3–LH surge, pleasant excitement; 4–BBT rise, patient and cautious; 5–luteal phase, sweet rest and self-assurance; end of 2ww, courageous and controlled. That’s not too much to ask, is it? Um, is it? Heart?
Have you had your headphones on this whole time?