name that fear
The 2ww is a real bitch. Playing with your mind like a big tease, at once holding out the promise of a dream and at the same time taunting and yanking it away before you’ve even had the chance to savor it for the simplest moment. Yeah, there’s no way around it. Unless you’re someone who really gets off on the anticipation of the thing alone without remaining invested in the magnitude of the outcome, I don’t see how anyone could enjoy the dreaded 2ww.
For me, this time its like no other. Sure, I’ve been invested before, I’ve wanted it more than anything. I’ve hoped and prayed, dreamed, meditated, wished, cried and begged. I’ve tried to will that god forsaken line on that stupid pee stick. Anything but that blinding blank whiteness, please!
But we’re beyond that now. We finally gave up on the idea that the Amazing M and I can create a baby on our own, and we handed over this critical task to the best that science and technology can offer. Making the decision to do IVF was not as hard as I thought it would be. The choice seemed clear. This is our best and likely only chance to have a biological child. In truth, it may be our only chance to have a child at all. So no, not much riding on this cycle, eh?
I was tired of hope. Hope alone just wasn’t cutting it. I needed a chance. I knew this was it. But before we took this leap of faith, I needed some mental conditioning. I had to dig deep and purge all negativity.
And so I filled my mind and heart with positive thoughts and feelings. I visualized my follicles growing into mature, healthy eggs. I envisioned the Amazing M’s sperm healthy and strong as they burrowed into my ready-ripe eggs. I pictured embryonic cells multiplying perfectly. I imagined those embryos implanting deep into my lush fertile uterine wall, where they would just grow grow grow. Beyond that, I saw myself late into pregnancy, and finally cradling that magnificent bundle of baby in my arms, the Amazing M by my side, both us us crying tears of joy… Beautiful, yes?
Sure, there were some concerns along the way. But I never let anything get me down. This time everything would work, everything would fall right into place.
Yet now, here I sit, barely 4 days into the 2ww (4dp3dt), and I can’t escape that nagging fear. The big fear — the one we would not speak of, the one I refused to explore, the one that lies beneath the surface and hangs over our heads — what if this fails? What the hell are we going to do if this doesn’t work?
The truth is I still don’t know. I can’t bear the thought. Sure, we may be lucky to try an FET or two, but in the end, it could all fail. And we would be left with nothing but each other (I know, it could be worse). Some day we might have other options. But until then, there would be no hope, no chance — just broken hearts and shattered dreams. I honestly don’t know how I will live with that. I know we’re not the first couple to face these fears. I wouldn’t be the only woman who dreamed of being a mother but could not. But in reality, I’m not sure how much comfort I could take from this sad truth.