Surviving the Rollercoaster

The two-week wait.

Anyone trying to become pregnant knows the two-week wait all too well. It is the worst possible two weeks in the insemination game. And yet, the two weeks prior aren’t so great either. In fact, the entire month is tough.

Part 1:
Menstruate.
Order sperm.
Pick up sperm in Winnipeg.
Watch for signs of ovulation.
Pee on ovulations sticks.
Decide a LH surge is not coming this month.
Think about the money wasted on unused sperm.
Keep peeing on sticks.
Cry.
LH surge hits.
Have a beautiful and romantic insemination (complete with articulated hopes and dreams for maybe gayby).

Part 2:
Wait for signs of conception.
Decide cramps are conception.
Decide cramps are PMS.
Google the difference between PMS and pregnancy symptoms.
Google it 100 more times.
Yell at every pregnant character on TV (not the time to watch Grey’s Anatomy).
Think about calling friend. But friend is pregnant. Not a safe bet.
Lie in bed all day and feel sad.
Decide breast swelling and pain is a sign of early pregnancy.
Decide it is actually PMS.
Ask partner to hide pregnancy tests. It is too early to tell anyway.
Sad.
Maybe I’m pregnant!
Sad.
Maybe I’m pregnant!
Sad.
Maybe I’m pregnant!
Menstruate.

My whole life now revolves around this cycle of possibility and grief. The grief is beginning to seep into the possibility. How do people do this? When and why do people stop trying?

We are only in cycle two.

According to The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians, I am suppose to:

  1. Take care of myself first
  2. Understand that this will take a while
  3. Get to know the two-part cycle (done. and done.)
  4. Keep believing it could happen
  5. Find support wherever you can
  6. Don’t hang out with unsupportive people
  7. Try not to obsess
  8. Take time out
  9. Indulge in pregnancy reading
  10. Reevaluate the process

It is true that trying to conceive is a terribly isolating experience. It is one that fractures friendships that were already cracking. It exposes what was already failing in relationships. It pokes at all of our raw wounds. It causes of our emotions to bubble-up to the surface. Some folks are unsympathetic. Some are rude. Others stop calling. Some never ask how you are doing because talking about trying to get pregnant is akin to talking about miscarriage. While the weight of trying to conceive and miscarrying is different, the stigma of speaking about it is similar.

There are little community supports, and support from friends and family becomes more difficult to find and harness when you are on the rollercoaster. You can’t get off because the possibility of becoming pregnancy continues to outweigh the grief, but I’m sure it is really hard to watch people ride.

Apparently, people rally when the baby arrives. That is what this books says. Unsupportive family members will rally. But what if a baby doesn’t arrive? Pregnancy books always end in pregnancy, and specifically pregnancies that are carried to term. I’ll have to find some new books to read. See #9.

Advertisements

One thought on “Surviving the Rollercoaster

  1. Really sorry to hear about your cycle. This is a hard road. It sounds like you have a lovely relationship so I’m sure you and your partner will offer each other lots of support. I reckon hope is what gets me through but that said for me the setting of some limit to how much grief you can put yourself through seems also important. Best of luck to you in your ttc journey.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s