I’ve just arrived at my ‘TWW’ (two week wait) and I’m reminded about how much I bloody hate it.
Women who are actively trying for a baby know how frustrating the TWW can be.. it just seems to go on and on…and on and on.. and on.
But – and I’m sure I’m not alone in this – its nothing compared to the FWW (four week wait). I’ve realised that the minute I get those cramps, or when I pee and there’s a hint of red on the paper; when my period annoyingly arrives – I’ve began my countdown.
Ok, so I’m still not pregnant… now what?
Countdown to Aunt Flo’ pissing off, taking with her the constant reminder of the fact I’m not pregnant.
Countdown to ovulation week which everyone tells us is supposed to be the fun part (listen, of course I have fun during the stuff, but there’s still all this underlying pressure about if we’re doing it at the right time and if we’re doing it enough, and if we should be doing it upside down or back to front or inside out – wait, I’ve went off course I think).
Countdown to the week your period is due. Trying to read signs. Am I cramping? Am I emotional? How’s my skin looking? Am I craving chocolate (Hell, I’m ALWAYS craving chocolate)
My period should be here now. I’m late. Good. Or is it? I’m not always regular. I’m getting my hopes up. I’m now 2 days late. Am I pregnant? 3 days late. Nope. Is that a spot? Crap, I’m cramping. I’m spotting. Great, here she bloody is!!! (excuse the pun)
And, again.. The countdown starts.