The wedding weekend in NYC was wonderful and a very, very nice distraction. I am now home and a whopping 12 days into the 2ww! 🙂 I DID end up jogging with my good friend over the weekend (who is incredibly dear to me but does not know about my IF because I seem to only be able to talk to you bloggies about it) and it felt awesome. I took it very EZ and drank lots and lots of water during the run and am fairly certain I didn’t thwart any potential implantation.
Speaking of implantation, I still have zero signs that we’re finally pregnant. On the night of 8DPO I *thought* I might’ve had a trace of that twinge-y lower abdomen stuff many women describe, but it only lasted one evening and, honestly, I was thinking about my uterus so intently that night that it’s more likely I either a) imagined it, or b) was so hyper-aware of my body that I noticed something that’s always there anyways.
And that, my friends, is it….so whatevs! I have zero desire to test early. I’ve decided folks who test early must have a strong suspicion that they’re knocked up so they’re really excited to see that BFP. Me? I’m still hoping for a miracle and praying for a symptom here or there, but mostly trying to prepare my psyche and heart for Wednesday morning’s result. (My clinic only does a Beta if you get a positive HPT; I need to go buy one.)
When in doubt, which is 97.7% of the time, I cling to this awesome post by Leslie as proof that—depsite what blog-land and message boards suggest—it IS definitely possible to be knocked up without any symptoms. Whatever happens, I will take the 2ww to being benched ANY TIME. Of COURSE I would be over the moon to have beginner’s luck, but simply living with the potential that our hopes and dreams could finally be realized has been truly amazing. A couple times I even daydreamed about what we might name our little one. I haven’t allowed myself to do that since last summer when I blissfully and naively thought the answer to my lack-of-period-woes was a 10-day dose of Provera. I have absolutely treasured these two weeks of feeling—for the first legit time—like we’ve had a shot at starting our little family.