My own TWW (two week wait) is around the corner. I am expecting to ovulate within the next few days. We have only DTD (done the deed) once so far this cycle due to workloads, but hopefully we’ll fit in another before my spike comes. I’m taking a more chilled approach to this cycle as I’m not keen on a summer baby (more on that in another post), so the pressure is off for this TWW. However, looking back over my previous 8 TWWs I have noticed there is an identical pattern of emotions to those of the 5 stages of grief. Allow me to elaborate.
Stage 1: Denial
Unless you have a clear temp spike that screams OVULATION! for some of us there is an intense scrutiny of whether ovulation has actually happened. The “law” says 3 high temps have to follow 6 previous lower ones to confirm that your little stubborn fucker of an egg has indeed taken notice of its eviction date and packed its shit up and got outta that ovary. But what if your 5th or 6th previous temp was questionable? Do you include it? What if your spike came on CD10 (cycle day) when it normally comes around day 20 – is it a false alarm or was that it? And therefore goddamn motherfucker you never got your BD (baby dance, or bedroom dance) in on time. What if you have a slow rise? What if your CM (cervical mucus) wasn’t fertile? It was still creamy, not egg white or – that substance more valuable than fucking heroin – watery, so does that mean that wasn’t actually it? You remember feeling the pinching, you got the spots, you were hormonal like a teenager, but you’re still in denial. You post your chart on different forums to get opinions (WHY did I do that?!) and 99% of the replies say “Welcome to the TWW girl!” or “Yay! BFP here you come!”. But then there’s that one post, from that user who has a clear temp jump every fucking cycle, that says “I’m not sure. Keep temping and BDing just in case”. WHAT?! I’d just about convinced myself that I was at the front of the line to get into the TWW club that has a waiting list 2 or sometimes 3 weeks long, and one person is saying I’ve got to get to the back of the line, it’s not my turn yet?! That seed of doubt nestles in your brain. The denial sets in. You refresh your chart 29 times in 8 hours, to over-analyse and inspect. You obsess over why Kindara or Fertility Friend, or Glow, or Ovum haven’t put a coverline on your chart. Nope, you’re not in the TWW yet. Even though you actually are and you’ve wasted all those hours for nothing.
Then you have the other type of denial. You can clearly see you’re in the TWW but you don’t think you’ve got enough hearts on your chart. You could have a tsunami of semen up there but you still think you should have shagged on the hour, every hour, for the past 5 days. People comment on your chart that “you’re more than covered” (which makes it sound like you’ve taken out the highest level of life insurance or something) but then you take a peek at their charts and it turns out they were the lucky cows that have indeed been shagging on the hour, every hour, for the past 5 days. So at least THEY’RE covered. Bitch.
Stage 2: Anger
It’s 4DPO (days past ovulation), your ovulation has finally been confirmed by those elusive 3 high temps, and time is dragging sooooooooo slooooooooowly. WHY am I only 4DPO?! WHY isn’t there 2 lines on the FRER (First Response Early Result) yet?! Even though I know full well that implantation wouldn’t even have happened yet. WHY is everyone else around me pregnant and I’m stuck in limbo land?! WHY do we have to go though this nightmare every single month just to have a fucking baby?! WHY?!
Stage 3: Bargaining
It’s anywhere between 6DPO and 10DPO and you think “this could be it!” You’re obsessively Googling every single symptom and its probability of being a sign of pregnancy (see future post about this) and you have convinced yourself you are deffo preggo. At least 60% of your day is spent searching “6DPO BFP symptoms”, “7DPO BFP symptoms”, “8DPO BFP symptoms” etc. etc. etc. Your husband actually thinks you’re having an affair because you’re spending that much time on your phone. It even goes to the toilet and shower with you. You start making deals with yourself: I’ll stop eating junk/drinking coffee/having alcohol/do more exercise if it means I get my BFP this month. ANYTHING to get those 2 lines. Please. Just let this be it.
Stage 4: Depression
It’s anywhere from 11DPO onwards and you know every piss you take is an opportunity to POAS (pee on a stick). You should have shares in Amazon because of the amount of cheapie sticks you’ve bought off there. Every time you see that stark white space, that BFN, that “NOT PREGNANT” (fuck you ClearBlue bosses who had that idea) you sink deeper into a depression. You’ve convinced yourself this was not your cycle. You cling onto the small hope that implantation can happen as late at 13DPO and your LP (luteal phase) is normally only 12 days long so being a day late must surely be a good sign. But you know in your heart of hearts that AF is around the corner, like an unwanted guest with body odour. You start taking sanitary towels or tampons to the toilet every time, just in case that will be the visit that you need them. You start wearing A LOT of waterproof mascara around this time too.
Stage 5: Acceptance
The BFP didn’t come. But your period did. You cry. You Kim Kardashian ugly cry for at least a day. You mourn the loss of what could have been. You work out when the earliest will be that you will have a baby if you’re successful the next month. You eat everything in sight. You cancel any social arrangements that don’t involve staying in on the sofa in your PJs watching trashy TV. And then you get over it. You have no choice to, because you want that baby so frickin’ much.