This morning in the shower as the water beat down hot on my chest–the doubt and fear crept in.
Everything has gone perfectly with our first IVF cycle. Really, it has. We transferred two perfect blastocysts last weekend, one right on the verge of hatching.
I rested in bed for three days like a good girl, keeping my feet up and my stress down.
I’ve supplemented my progesterone and estrogen each morning and evening. If you’ve ever been in my shoes you know exactly what I’m referring to. So gross.
I’ve managed to keep my worry at bay–until today.
This morning in the shower I felt twinges, cramps and lower back pains consistent with PMS.
Enter doubt and fear—and despair. Right then and there I chalked this cycle up as a bust.
This is so me though. I do this every cycle. Right about this time in my two-week-wait I being to convince myself whatever drugs or procedures we’ve tried have failed.
And then I begin to rationalize why that would be OK.
I’m not even going to share those rationalizations because–to anyone else—they would seem petty and trivial. But—to me—they are somewhat reassuring. And more than anything, they will make failing Monday’s pregnancy test much easier on this heart of mine.
I want to be positive. I want to believe our first IVF cycle worked like a charm. But I’m weak. And I’m human.
I’ve taken too many blows over the past two years. It seems foolish to believe with all my heart and soul that we should be lucky enough to get pregnant on our first IVF cycle.
I’m not proud of this. I wish I was better at maintaining a positive attitude. I wish I was better at visualization. I wish I was better at self-talk and positive affirmations.
But I’m not. I’m scared. I’m so damn scared.
I’m also brutally honest. I’m sharing this with all of you in the hopes that some of you have been here—and won’t judge or lecture. You’ll just tell me I’m not crazy. You’ll tell me what I’m feeling is normal. And you’ll tell me it’s OK to be scared right up to the point of wanting to give-up.
I promise I won’t though. I’ll keep the faith. I’ll wait it out, and pray.
And I’ll hope tomorrow’s shower washes away these doubts and brings me some peace and serenity.