But, my problem... they all write in code. I am trying to decode all of their acronyms and abbreviations and messages. Like my title. Apparently 7dp5dt means: Seven days past 5 day transfer. What it should really be is 7di2wwGC (Seven days into 2 week wait and GOING CRAZY). I blame it on being mostly housebound for the past week, and reading all of these women on the online forums. They're not all neurotic, but I think once you reach a certain breaking point you are just the type of person to sit all glassy-eyed with a pasted grin on your face speaking in a high-pitch squeaky voice about gardens and babies and optimistic things like a BFPs (Big Fat Positive. I do not lie. It's in their "glossary")
Well, some of these women are sitting glassy eyed in the corner of internet, waiting to send "baby dust" to every new woman that arrives on the forum. They call your animals "furbabies" and discuss their husbands sperm count and mobility on a regular basis.
"Oh, WantBabies4eva, your DH's (dear husband's) sperm count sounds so promising! Baby dust to you both! Not much longer in your 2ww!!!!!!"
And their user names. I can't even discuss them. It is clear that these moments in their life define them. And while I read their messages and try to make sense of it all, I feel sad for them. And for me. That we have to go through such a rigorous regimen when those around us seem to be popping babies out like, well, there's no good metaphor for popping babies. I can see how some might just go batty.
I do not feel like these moments define me or G. This is just something we are going through. Together. Something we are laughing about as he stabs me in the rear with a needle. Something I whine about when he leaves a bruise. Phone messages that we can't wait to share, even when it's bad news. Days off, reflective lunches, and discussions that revolve around a hope that one day this will be behind us because we will have reached the end goal.
I wish these women, the ones I go to in some way for support, will stop sending me fairy dust and get real already. Tell me about the procedures and the side effects, the phone calls and the doctor visits, the twings and pangs of your body when you had a BFP or a BFN (I'll let you figure that one out.) Tell me! Break down and let it out so that your messages can help someone. Or guide them. Or give them peace when all they're looking for is a sign. Any definite sign.
Thank you. Maybe every other month when I hit rock bottom I slink onto those sites and only leave feeling more depressed than I already did. I have the hardest time decoding their strings of letters, and like you, can't stomach the baby dust. I leave terrified because I don't want to become them. I don't want this process to end up defining my life, like you pointed out that it seems to for these women. I need to know that it is possible for it to just be something you do while going about the rest of your amazing life. I'm terrified that 2 years from now I'll be sitting on the same spot on my couch, no longer referring to my cat as a cat, but instead a furbaby, wishing baby dust on people. It's enough to make me want to give it all up, move to a different country, and tell the world that I didn't want a baby anyway...
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