Hurry up and wait

Although I savor summer vacation, I am thinking it is a good thing that I head back to work next week. There are several reasons for this (namely, my recent extreme laziness), but mostly it is because the dreaded two week wait (TWW) is upon me. It is that magical period of time between ovulation and the beginning of your next cycle when all you can do is constantly scrutinize every twinge inside of your pelvic region, in hopes that it is an egg fertilizing. This is a period of time that moves by so agonizingly slowly, that if you are TTC, you feel like you will lose your mind.

Because I ovulate so infrequently, I often forget the neurotic tendencies that kick in during the TWW. I go back and forth between hopeful and cynical. I have heated inner dialogues that sometimes make me laugh hysterically, which then, in turn, also make me look like a lunatic to the people in cars next to me. Picture a sort of angel/devil scenario. They typically go something like this:

"This might by the cycle you get pregnant!" vs. "Don't get too excited. The IUI only gives you a 20% chance of success."

"But, that means there is a chance! You haven't had many chances at all in the last year!" vs. "But even if I got pregnant, I would probably lose it. That's what happened last time."

"So many infertile friends have gotten pregnant lately. That means it might be your turn!" vs. "You want it too much. That means something bad is going to happen."

Get the idea? These are the fun times happening in my head all the time. Sometimes they are also followed by an evil laugh.

The hubby constantly shakes his head at me when I go to the dark side of any situation. The endless optimism that he is able to produce is the glue of our relationship, I am convinced. I mean, what the hell would we do if BOTH of us were Debbie Downers all the time? Instead, he chooses to kiss my head, put a hand on my belly, and think good thoughts. The song "Imagination" from Willy Wonka has a great quote about optimism. Willy says, "Hold your breath. Make a wish. Count to three." I keep thinking of those words over and over again. It's like throwing a coin into a fountain. It is just pure, blind hope. I wish I could bottle it and hold it in my pocket.

So, my challenge for the next two weeks is to keep busy, keep some hope, and not pee on hundreds of HPTs in the hopes of that elusive double pink line.