If you’ve been following along, you’ll know we’re in the middle of our fourth Two Week Wait. Actually writing it out like that makes it seem like a drop in the bucket, like just a moment has passed. Four of anything isn’t that many.
In reality it feels a little longer. Okay, a lot longer.
The wait feels easier (for me at least) as the seasons begin to change. Our world is less constricted. I feel like I can think about something other than the wait and the miserable weather. Dare I say it I even have hope. From the depths of winter nothing seemed possible. New growth felt distant and dreamlike. Now the world is opening up again, bits of green around the edges.
We’re getting better at distracting ourselves too. Less focus on the possible symptoms, more focus on passing the time.
We went for dinner and read large chunks of books that we’re both enjoying. Andrea started a woodworking project. We built a garden bed and a fence to keep out the hordes of rabbits patrolling our neighborhood and stayed outside until the sun set. I even planted a single row of spinach to taunt the buggers and test the new fence:
Maybe this a good sign. New growth and all? Either way, the time passes.
This is our third Two Week Wait. We know better now than to get our hopes up too high. Andrea isn’t reading (or at least telling me) every twinge in her body, every little temperature change, and mood swing. Those are all parts of life, not just pregnancy. That’s what I’m telling myself at least.
Yet our conversations still drift to baby talk. As the non-birthmother, the more coffee I drink the more I want to talk about these things.
Should we decorate the nursery with a theme? How will the dog react to the baby? Should we let the family throw a baby shower or try to do our own? Will the dog steal the baby’s toys? (yes) These are the fun conversations. The ones that don’t involve calendars and doctors and bodily fluids. They are too enjoyable to avoid even if they do ratchet up our hope.
Conversations also inevitably drift to the possibility of needing to plan for a next time. Even within this tww we are looking ahead at the next. If this time doesn’t work, what do we do next? Do we keep on keeping on and stick with the IUI route? Could IVF be a possibility for us, financially?
Hell, maybe it won’t matter. Maybe this time will stick. Fingers crossed!
We did our third IUI this morning. Our first with a little more help (the ovidrel trigger shot on Sunday night.) We’re looking for all those good signs, both physical and superstitious. Good vibes. A lucky penny. A sunny morning or a break in the clouds, at least.
As the wife, I feel like my main job at this stage of the game is to be calm and supportive. I held Andrea’s hand while the nice Midwestern-mom nurse pressed against her bladder to get everything lined up. We joked a little about not peeing on her. A little joke but not too much slap-stick. That’s a moment of restraint for me. When I’m nervous or excited or happy or sad (ok all the emotions) I tend to resort to humor. This isn’t always a bad thing but maybe not the tone to be set while attempting to conceive a baby.
Once the process was done we waited the oddly specific yet short ten minutes before heading back to work. I like these ten minutes. A bit of quiet between just my wife and I. Even though we don’t know anything, we won’t know anything for a while, those ten minutes swell with hope. This could be the start of something. This could be the ONE.
After those ten minutes, I press the hope down a bit and try to be more level headed. There is no point getting excited or discouraged yet. Only time will tell. I really feel like we’ve done everything right. If it doesn’t work this time it’s only because sometimes it doesn’t work.
But I sure hope it works.
As a couple of ladies, trying to make a baby (a couple of babies?), in the Midwest we have lots of thoughts, lots of questions, and not a lot of people we can talk to about it. We’ve seen what a wonderfully supportive community the internet can be so we thought we’d jump in.
This blog will hopefully be a place where we can ask those questions and share our story.
Stay tuned for more.
Much Love, Elizabeth and Andrea
We first started talking about having kids – over beers and in more depth than you’d think – early in our relationship. After a bit of bartering, a bit of contemplation, decided that we both wanted to carry (if possible). We both wanted that experience and that connection to another human being.
Long story short, I’m going second.
For this part of the story, I am the non-birth mother. I’m the one who isn’t getting poked and prodded and peeing on ovulation sticks. This is both liberating and terrifying. I am free and I am helpless. There is not much more I can do right now except try to be supportive.
I know I’m not alone on this side of this fence.
Please feel free to chime in and tell me what I’m doing right or wrong. Tell me how to cope.