If you could be in the mind of a woman during the TWW, it would sound something like this…
It’s 2am. Why am I even awake?
I’ll quickly check for spotting. All good - nothing yet.
Actually, I’ve got no symptoms. Is that a good or bad thing? I’m not sure of much of anything anymore!
Hang on…. maybe I’m feeling *slightly* light-headed. It’s only day 9 but maybe I should test?
Nope, I’ll wait. I couldn’t face a BFN today.
Maybe I should ask in the online forums for some advice on symptoms?
Better not, I spent hours on it last night. I’ll roll over and go back to sleep and think “sticky thoughts.”
Wait, what’s the date?
Ugh, today was supposed to be the day I went on that holiday. The one I cancelled ‘just in case’ that transfer months ago was successful. I mean, it made sense. I didn’t want to be travelling with a newborn. It’s not like I’ve put my life on hold or anything….
My life *is* on hold. I’m sitting in limbo and anything that used to make me feel good has taken a back seat to this damn fertility. This isn’t living.
Ah, the dreaded two week wait. There’s a reason why it sends shivers down the spines of those trying to bring home a baby.
Whether you’re new to the torturous holding pattern that is the two week wait, or you’ve been here for the long haul, anxiety is likely winning. It’s like living in the space between.
On one hand you’re a dutiful slave to the process, doing what you can to stay up-beat. Feeling hopeful that maybe this will be your time.
But as the days wear on, you’re agonising over whether it’s already over this round. The onslaught of painful, debilitating emotions begins. And you’re feeling more lonely, stressed and helpless than ever before.
Before you know it, it’s pervaded every aspect of your life. You’re barely surviving, let alone thriving.
The pendulum is never steady; you go from tear-soaked exhaustion to renewed hope….. and back again.