As we are trying again there are two weeks of the month that are absolute hell: the two week wait. During those two weeks I abstain from fun things like sushi, alcohol, ibuprofen ... I even try to cut down on my coffee consumption and try to remember to take my prenatal vitamins every day. And then, it seems to be inevitable, by the end of the first week I am going nuts (also this second half of the cycle? Is always when I get sick and would REALLY like to take cold medicine. So when I turn up not pregnant as I have the last two cycles and have religiously skipped the DayQuil? In other words SUFFERED? It really sucks).
In my skewed brain every little physical twinge must mean something: I fall asleep on the couch by ten p.m. and that MUST indicate that I am pregnant, RIGHT?! No matter that I've been chasing a toddler around since 7:30 a.m.!!! My hands are dried out! My boobs kind of hurt? Do they? I'd better squeeze them and check. Maybe a little. MAYBE. Is this it? Could it be?! If I'm pregnant that means I'll be due in October. YAY! How wonderful! Now let's start thinking about what to name this baby! Dang I hate my stupid brain.
By the middle of the second week of the two week wait I'm pulling out the pregnancy tests and fighting the urge to pee on one. And when I FAIL and do take it and there is only one line I tell myself that it might be too early (IT IS, DUMMY) and I can take another one in a few days and it might be positive then. I can't bear to wait until the day I expect my period, or until I'm a day or two late. I need to know NOW. So I can get on with life. Do crazy things like take Advil and eat spicy tuna rolls and turkey subs, order that venti latte at Starbucks.
When I go through this inevitable last crazy week of the cycle my husband likes to remind me, "You know, if you want to get pregnant we're going to have to have a lot more SEX" and then wiggles his eyebrows. This is usually suggested when it's 10 p.m. and I am utterly and totally exhausted and have no desire whatsoever to be messed with in any way shape or form. And as much as I hate to admit it, he's right.
Even though the reason that idea usually seems so repulsive to me when it's suggested is because all my whacked out body is telling me is that I am not pregnant and, on the contrary, have PMS. Like BIGTIME.
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