Two week waits suck. And my wait isn't even ten days.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a double baby shower at work. I brought a hat-in-progress with me (I have a tiny skein of only 185 yards, so after much searching I finally found a knitted beret that would work) because I had a feeling I would need something to keep my hands busy, and I'm glad I did. The first little while was fine; even watching them open their gifts; but then everyone started in with the advice and the questions (things like "so how do you think the big day will go?") and I had to knit really fast to calm my thoughts. (My coworkers are great, and I was happy to go and support them at their shower, and of course they shouldnt take my fast-knitting personally, heh.)
It was kind of a downward spiral from there; now all I can think about is Monday afternoon and the phone call with bad news. I keep sitting quietly, barely breathing, trying to feel as hard as I can. Just like last time, there's nothing. Of course. Because it has only been five days. But in the back of my mind is that little voice that says you didn't feel anything last time, and you weren't pregnant. So you know what not feeling any symptoms THIS time means!
I don't make our IVF a secret among most people; C and I are just fine with sharing it. But now I'm in this weird place where I hate to bring it up to people because I imagine they think "oh jeez, again with the infertility talk?" But it's like opening the door to a dryer that's too-full of clothes. My thoughts tumble out through the cracks. I just can't wait for this to be over so I don't feel like I have to share all of my insecurities and desperation with anyone who stops near me long enough for my dryer door to open.