The Art of Optimism

In middle school I was part of the Forensics team. No, not studying crime scenes. I wish. It was basically a public speaking team. Yours truly was never much of an athlete but boy can I enunciate! That's right, we competed on how well we could recite or read speeches, stories, etc.

One of the speeches I memorized and then recited (all 1,000+ words of it) was entitled "The Art of Optimism". At the age of 12, I probably chose that speech from the pile of options because it was the shortest, certainly not because it was interesting. It wasn't. Ironically, despite committing it to memory, presenting it and winning a trophy at an early age none of it stuck. I've grown up to be a pessimist.

I prepare for doomsday. I live in a world of "just in case". At home I stockpile food in the event of an earthquake; at work I always explore the worst case scenario and how someone might find a way to sue us; I bring an umbrella with me on every trip, just in case; on the plane, I carry several meals--what if the plane is delayed and I miss dinner!

I like to be prepared. I hate surprises.

Sometimes this over-preparedness is a positive quality--and maternal, in my mind. However, most of the time it prevents me from living in the moment. I am always worried about the what-ifs and therefore spontaneity is hard to come by. It also means that I'm always thinking about negative things--those worst case scenarios. Wow, don't I sound fun!

This personality trait has certainly reared it's stubborn head during my struggles with infertility. Each month I fear the end of the two week wait (2WW). Most women can hardly wait to pee on that little stick. Not me. I dread it. I know what the stick is going to say. It's always said the same thing. I prepare myself emotionally and get the sadness out of the way a few days before I'm due to test. It doesn't mean I'm not devasted when I do finally pee on the stick and see the answer. It means it's not really a surprise. It means I fully expected it to be negative. The only surprise would be if it were positive. For someone who hates surprises, that's the best surprise I could ever get. Other than when Max proposed in Paris years ago...that was by far the best surprise of my life.

This 2WW is especially excrutiating because it's my first IVF cycle. I have no symptoms that indicate the remote chance of a good surprise next week. This cycle was it! We brought in the big guns. It's high stakes.

I know I need to try to stay positive for Thing 1 and Thing 2 so they will be happy in my belly and unstressed. However, I also need to get ready for next week's bad news. If I lead myself to think there's a good chance I'll be pregnant, I'll be even more crushed. Somehow spacing it out over time makes it seem less painful.

One way of coping is by having the next thing lined up. When a vacation is about to end, thinking about the next one that is planned months away keeps me positive so I can enjoy those last days. Similarly, before each cycle ends I need to know what our plan is for the next one. Knowing there's a plan, knowing we're prepared is comforting because it means we can avoid wasting time. I'm learning that fertility doctors like all doctors (Max included) like their patients to think about things one day at a time. Let's not rush to conclusions. Let's not jump to Plan B until we know it's necessary.

For me, it's a coping strategy. I'm already looking at the calendar to see when I may be able to start my next IVF cycle (October?), if there is to be one.

Let me give something new a try:

I will be pregnant on Tuesday when I have my beta. I am pregnant now. And, when this little baby is born I will be forced to live in the moment. Despite my efforts, I won't be able to plan everything. I will be late to appointments due to unexpected events like an over-sleeping baby; I will sometimes forget to pack goldfish when we go to the park; I will forget a change of clothes and baby will have to wear a dirty shirt. And, everything will be perfect.

Fingers crossed that this pessimist will be reformed once and for all...