It’s that time of month again. The dreaded two week wait. It’s getting very, very boring. I try not to think about symptoms, but it’s my body and there they are. Kind of tough to ignore. But there’s never anything definitive in the two week wait, so if I do get any symptoms, it still doesn’t mean anything. But still I can’t help it – constantly assessing tenderness, tiredness, food aversions – even hormonal pimples on my chin.
At the same time, I’m trying to prepare for the seemingly inevitable disappointment. And this is where things get really irrational. As though if I firmly believe that I am pregnant, or I hope for it, that the universe will slap me in the face with a big fat negative. Whenever I identify a new symptom, in my mind I try to come up with another reason why it might be there. All in the vain hope that I will be less disappointed by not raising my expectations.
A mere sampling of the neurosis:
|Pregnant||Totally Not Pregnant|
|Exhaustion and excessive napping. But let’s be honest – can any amount of napping really be excessive?!||I am sleep deprived and have a 2 year old who doesn’t sleep through. I don’t technically get out of bed in the middle of the night – but it’s still broken sleep.|
|Breast tenderness, aching. And started about a week earlier than it would normally.||Happens every month with PMS. This month it’s just early. Oh joy! I love when PMS lasts for two weeks, period for one. Giving me a whole 10 days of non-symptoms. That’s living!|
|Can’t stomach real coffee. Now that’s just cruel!||Still drinking instant coffee. Hardly food aversion. Obviously just becoming weak in my old age|
|Mid to upper backache||Hello? Somebody spends all manner of hours hunched over a laptop computer|
And really that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Don’t mind me, I’ll just be here, hoping that things get a whole lot worse. When enduring the two week wait, getting worse is the only thing that makes me feel any better.
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