The Two Week Wait. Or commonly known as TWW. After everything. After months and months of trying to get pregnant. After your doctor telling you you have a less than 1% chance of getting pregnant naturally. After months getting quotes, second opinions and insurance conversations. After finally making the decision that IVF is your only way. After shots and patches and pills and stress and do this and do that’s, and don’t do this and don’t do that’s. After waiting to know if any of that worked to get some healthy eggs. After waiting to know if any of the eggs fertilized.. After waiting to know if any of your embryos made it to viability. After waiting to know if your embryos were frozen properly. After waiting for genetic testing to determine if you have any viable embryos. After surgeries to prepare your body. After waiting for one or two months to get your body ready. After more shots and patches and pills, you are ready for transfer day. Then you wait to know if your embryo has thawed properly. And now, at some point, you have made it to transfer. Welcome to the world of IVF, where all you do is wait.
And after transfer day. After waiting for what already seemed like a lifetime to just to get to where you were. You have to wait, wait again. And this time, for two weeks. The Two Week Wait. TWW.
Two weeks to be as calm as possible. Two weeks to be as positive as possible. Two weeks to distract yourself from thinking about the possibility of another baby. Two weeks where you know there is a baby inside of you. Two weeks when you know there is a baby inside of you, but you truly don’t know. You don’t know if the embryo “stuck.” You don’t know if it worked. You don’t know if your dreams have come true. Two weeks where all you want to do is take a pregnancy test. Two weeks until they finally call you with the results of your first blood test. And then you wait. You wait until your second blood test to officially determine pregnancy.
Two weeks seems like nothing. It’s only two weeks. But not here, not in the world of IVF. Two weeks becomes a lifetime.
And now. Now it is so different. It feels like all I am doing is waiting. Waiting for what? I have no idea. That is what makes it so hard. Waiting for the pain to go away. Waiting to not constantly hurt. Waiting to feel like myself again. Since I can’t rewind my life, I want to fast forward my life. I want to know the unknown. I want to know where we will be in 2 years. 5 years. I’m waiting to know that we will be “okay” again. And I don’t even know what “okay” means. Now, I’m not waiting for two weeks. And I thought that was hard. Now, now I’m waiting for a lifetime.