The Countdown Begins

Two more days until I test. Which means two more days to desperately try to interpret my symptoms. An exercise in futility if ever there was one.

So far my boobs hurt, my skin is oily, and my endometriosis is “tickling” though not actually painful. This is more or less what happens before my period. The new addition is a low level headache, but after some hardcore Googling I know this is a side effect of the estrogen patch I’m on.

I waver between two extremes.

Misery! Because this means I’m not pregnant, and will die childless and alone.


Exhaustion! Because this means nothing at all, and I’m working myself up for no reason.

After a little hemming and hawing I decided not to POAS. It has never been in my repertoire, in part because I liked the idea that nature gave me a built-in pregnancy test (i.e. my period.) It helped me stay connected to my body, and honestly was starting to feel like the last “natural” part of this process. Of course, IVF really throws any illusion of “nature” out the window. Who am I kidding?

I’ve been having really strange dreams lately. The first one was just me getting my period. I could see the blood making beautiful and intricate designs in the toilet bowl. (TMI, but this is an infertility blog.) The second dream was actually a little funny. I was being chewed out by a nurse for having a miscarriage because I had an orgasm. (They make this big deal about how you’re not allowed any sexy fun time after IVF, so this isn’t completely out of left field.) Obviously, my unconscious is anxious.

Is it weird that I’m actually dreading my test a little bit? I’ve liked spending the last two-ish weeks dwelling in possibility. It was nice, even if it was unknown. But in just a few days, I’ll know what’s actually been going on done there.

Mr. O has decided to take the day off. At first I thought this was crazy, but I can imagine that he’ll be just as apprehensive as I am. And his isn’t the kind of job where you can run into the bathroom for a good cry. I’m going to work from home in the afternoon while I wait for the call. I think it will be good to be distracted by work for most of the day, but be in a safe place when I find out for sure.

We’ve decided to make reservations at a restaurant that night. Either we’ll be celebrating, or we’ll be consoling ourselves with excellent food. Even if this cycle doesn’t work out, I like the idea of having a plan and sticking to it. Life goes on, damnit. And that includes dinner reservations.

This is one angsty ostrich, signing off…