The Two Week Wait

No one ever talks about the woman’s longest wait. The two weeks between attempting to conceive and waiting to see if you were successful in getting pregnant is agony.

You are acutely aware of every tinge, flutter and nauseous feeling (even if it’s just the garlic bread you had for supper). You may take your temperature daily or at least take your emotional temperature, wondering if this or that feeling is a sign the cells are multiplying. That life is forming even as you sit typing at your desk or wash up the evening dishes. You wonder and you wait. You pray prayers for life to be formed, then tell yourself that you’re being silly because life has already been initiated—or it hasn’t.

You open your calendar four times a day, checking again to see how early you can take a test. You Google it and wonder if it’s worth it to spend an extra $10 on the tests that promise to deliver the news four days earlier. I can wait, you tell yourself. But then you break down and take the test two days before you know it’s time and experience the first surge of emotion.

Disappointment.

Relief?

But then hope.

Maybe it was negative because you took it too early. So your rush out to Dollar Tree to buy more tests so you don’t have to feel guilty about wasting money on taking early tests. Annoyingly, the tests are too high on the shelf to reach, so you have to get a high school-aged employee to assist you. You try not to feel embarrassed, telling yourself you’re an adult and it’s none of her business anyway.

“How many?” she asks.

“Five,” you mumble, trying to ignore her raised eyebrow.

You tell yourself to just wait until you get your period and then you’ll know for sure, but it’s impossible to sit back and wait at this point. Because your life may be about to change completely. Or you may be back where you started. If that’s the case, you think, I’m definitely having more than one glass of wine tonight.

In the two week wait, you are often alone. If you have experienced many months of these waits, you may stop even mentioning it to your husband because he still doesn’t know what to say even after all these months. You cringe when acquaintances ask you if you want to have a baby or if you’re “trying.” “We’ll see,” you say.

And so you sit with your hope, and cradle your heart to try and shield it from the threat of sadness. You tear open yet another test—this time you are a day late, so the results should be accurate. But only one strong pink line appears.

You hate that line—or the absence of it’s companion. To combat the disappointment as you bury it in the trash can, hoping your husband won’t notice there is more than one in there, you tick off all the reasons why you’re glad the test is negative: you can have that margarita with dinner tonight, ride a roller coaster this summer, gorge yourself on sushi, or run a half marathon after all. Life is simple again. Your body is your own. At least for another two weeks.

You try to manage your jealousy when you spot women at church who have gotten pregnant so easily (or so you assume). Doing the math, you discover that if you had conceived when you planned, you would have been as far along as so-and-so. Then you feel angry with yourself for going to such lengths to compare yourself.

Your story may linger here. It may include more insensitive questions, experimental methods and more loss. It may require embracing a new way, plan or hope. It may not end the way you wanted.

Or one month that is many months later than you would have liked, you take a test—two days early again—and you lean over the counter to peer into the tiny plastic window. You see a faint pink line. The sign of life. And it is only then that you realize that the wait has just begun.

(For the record, I wrote this exactly two years ago, so it is not about today. Just FYI. See this post😉 )

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I have three books to giveaway this month, so keep an eye out for them! This week, I’m giving away a copy of Long Days of Small Things: Motherhood as Spiritual Discipline. You can read my review here, but it’s a fabulous book to buy for moms of young children who need a breath of fresh air. Sign up for my newsletter by this Friday (5/11) at midnight (MT) and I’ll send you a copy! Already signed up? Then like the Instagram or Facebook post I put up on 5/8 and tag up to four friends in the comments section (I’ll enter your name once per friend you tag)! Sorry, only U.S. residents and no bots allowed. 😉

It would make a fabulous mother’s day gift for a mom in the trenches!

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This month on Scraping Raisins, we’re talking about adoption, foster care and children. If you’re interested in guest posting about this theme, shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com. The theme for June is “Create,” so you can also be thinking ahead for that, too. Be sure to check back or follow me on social media so you don’t miss the fabulous guest posters I have lined up this month!

Blog Post: The Two Week Wait. No one ever talks about the woman’s longest wait. The two weeks between attempting to conceive and waiting to see if you were successful in getting pregnant is agony.

**Contains Amazon affiliate links.

Picture from Google Images, Creative Commons.

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