How the two week wait stole my sanity and replaced it with tiny pizzas

I haven't been posting because I've been too busy trying to stay sane.

I'm struggling to focus on work, which has received scant attention of late. I've been able to pull it together for my patients, but when I'm alone...not much productive going on.

Instead, I'm spending lots of time trying not to think about the presence or absence of every strange twitch and bloat in my body. You know the symptoms everyone goes on and on about: sore breasts, uterine cramping, light spotting, fatigue, nausea, urinary frequency?

Well, I have some of those. Maybe. If I squint my eyes and focus my mind hard enough.

And now I'm trying to remember back to my last "successful" IVF (by the clinic fellow's standards, at least). What was I feeling? I remember thinking I was going to test positive. Didn't I think that? I had uterine cramping. Perhaps. Not really sure. Definitely. Ugh.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that all I know is I am jacked up on progesterone. Or maybe I know that I am pregnant. Or maybe (more often) that I'm not. As I monitor my insides repeatedly, I think: abdominal cramp. Must be gas, embryos implanting, nervousness, embryos implanting, intestinal blockage. Im-PLAN-tation.

My breasts? I roll over at night and two massive globular entities wake me up. Soreness! Will marvels at them, at the widening, darkening aureolas now the size of tiny pizzas. The boobages may be large, Will, but back off! They are made of glass. Sign of pregnancy? Sign of progesterone. Were they more sore last time, when I was "successful"? I think so. Maybe not. Definitely. Are they more sore than yesterday? Yes. No. Yes. Ugh.

And I'm a little nauseated. It's the fast food I ate. It's the progesterone. I am PREGNANT. I have food poisoning. Wait, maybe it's passed.

Happy Holidays. Miserable holidays. White Christmas. Blue Christmas. Criminy.

Why did we decide to do this right before Christmas anyway?

It's 6dp3dt. Tested negative this morning.

I can obviously conclude that (1) this cycle is a failure. Or (2) this cycle is a success but it's really early. Or (3) who the hell knows, but at least the HCG is out of my system.

The only thing I know for sure is that suddenly, I have a hankering for pizza.


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