The 2ww is amazingly capable of slowing time to a careening halt. From the moment you leave the recovery room, the seconds begin to tick away with the lethargic speed of a dying snail. Clocks, in some sort of conspiracy to drive you mad, dawdle the hours away as if they were sipping lemonade on the docks of Key West watching the sunset. Doesn't time know I'm going crazy over here???
And, in typical neurotic 2ww fashion, paranoia sets in about everything that could possibly go wrong. Failures of cycles past come knocking each day to remind me NOT to:
1) Use the restroom at Target--it causes miscarriages;
2) Lift a 15lb. bag of dog food--it causes chemical pregnancies;
3) Scrub gunk off of the tile floor in kitchen--it causes miscarriages;
4) Think negatively about another driver on the Parkway--it makes embryos disappear;
5) Eat, smell, or even look at chocolate--it causes chemical pregnancies.
Anything I was doing during or around the time I found out an IVF cycle was a bust is added to the list of things I can't do. And 9 cycles in, it's hard to keep track anymore.
I know it's irrational. I know none of these things actually caused my cycles to fail; but when there's no rhyme, reason, or rational explanation, you cling to what you've got. When your RE has explored every avenue and can only respond with a bewildered (yet compassionate) shoulder shrug, you wonder if there wasn't something funny about that Target restroom that day.
So now that I've poured out my rant on things that have gone horribly wrong, I'm back to reminding myself that thinking positive is way more beneficial. On the bright side, four days have passed. I have five more days left until my beta, and only 24 hours until I start obsessing over home pregnancy tests.
Happy 4th of July!