My heart is full of brokenness right now. The pouring rain outside sets the perfect stage for the soulful ache deep within me. My stomach gnawing away upon itself. My heart, heavy with confusion. You see I am now 8 days late now. Anticipation has been oozing from my pores. The last week has been filled with a lot of self encouragement. Just a few more days and it will be real. A few more days and my pregnancy test will be positive. Search after search on the internet to justify my waiting. This woman got her positive at 21DPO (days post ovulation). That woman had to wait until 30DPO. You see, you can find almost anything you want on the internet to substantiate how you are feeling or the symptoms you have experienced.
I last tested when I was 4 days late, recounting my thoughts in my brief “Game Player” post. But now, here I am…still waiting. I have been too afraid to test again. Too afraid to see more negatives only to ingress in self-talk to keep moving, to keep journeying, and blogging. Trying so desperately to cling to the peace I so desire and have experienced over the last few weeks.
This morning after my bible study I decided to test. It had been 3 hours since I last went to the bathroom, so why not? I know it’s not the optimal time of day to test…but I figured, after 8 days I should be spilling hcg into my urine. Of course, you can imagine my disappointment when only 1 line presented itself to me. 1 line…inferring the dreaded negative. My heart fell, my stomach welled up in knots and all I wanted was to crawl into my bed and hide for the next few days. I don’t want to run the errands that need to be completed. I don’t want to have our neighbors over for dinner tonight or grab coffee with my pregnant friend tomorrow. I just want to hide, to surrender myself to my bed and sleep it off. Can’t that be done?
Within just a minute or two of lying in bed, the infertility nurse called. She was calling about my upcoming ultrasounds, trigger shots, and IUIs…wanting to make sure we were all set. I relayed my fear to her that I was having an anovulatory cycle and that I was 8 days late. After hanging up the phone, an order for a serum hcg now floated out there in the system, waiting for me to give a little more of myself, waiting for me to muster the courage to go and give blood.
I have never had an anovulatory cycle. I have been tracking my periods for the last 15 months and have had 16 cycles in that time. I have always ovulated. My period has always fit into the perfect bounds of 27 days with only a few exceptions. I have only had one cycle over 30 days…it was 31 days and was over 6 months ago. I am currently on cycle day 36.
I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my sweet labradoodle for company in the car and off we went to the clinic. Rain poured from the sky while exhaustion began to flood my body. I’m so tired of this. So tired of false hope. So tired of a life that has to revolve around clinic appointments and chemical sticks that direct my day to day life.
The blood has been drawn. The clock is ticking. 22 hours until I can have some sort of a definitive answer. It’s easier to prepare myself for the negative. I feel the negative, I have lived in the negative for so long. Believing in the impossible is hard. Lord, help my unbelief. You are a God of miracles. Please help my unbelief.
All I can do is continue to trust. God promises me peace. I have experienced a great deal of peace recently. I know this day isn’t beyond the bounds of his perfect peace either.
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7
Today, I wait.