The Only Thing We Have to Fear... is Fear Itself

A week ago, I woke up about half an hour before my alarm rang. It was another Monday, another start to the work week. Yet, this wasn't any other week. By quitting time on Friday, I would have my beta results, and my two week wait, which has really been a three year wait, would be over. As I tried to fall back asleep, I found myself thinking about The Monster at the End of the Book.

*Spoiler Alert: Although if you haven't read this book, you must add it to your reading list!* 

Grover, the most beloved Sesame Street character until Elmo was introduced, had received some inside information that there is a Monster at the end of the book you are reading. He begs and pleads with the reader not to turn any pages, which will bring them face to face with the Monster. When that fails, he attempts to tie the pages together and even builds a brick wall to thwart any further page turning. It was one of my favourite books as a child, perhaps because my mother could do a pretty good imitation of Grover freaking out.

I've previously noted that it's the final 48 hours of the two week wait that seem to be the hardest. When I hit 8dp5dt, I started contemplating testing. I researched my fellow bloggers and while there were a few exceptions; for the most part, women with a successful implantation had a positive result by this time, and women with negative results, often had a BFN or chemical pregnancy confirmed. Why drag it out any longer? I could pee on a stick and end the suspense.

Suddenly it made sense why I was randomly thinking about that book from my childhood. I didn't actually want the two week wait to end. Each passing day was like turning a page, and would bring me closer to the BFN Monster at the end of the week. I wanted to prolong not being not pregnant as long as possible.

For the record, I did hold out on testing. Husband reminded me that even when I was pregnant, my second line was so faint you had to squint as if you were looking at those 3-D posters that were all the rave in our college days. I also came across the episode of Seinfeld where George contemplates telling his girlfriend that he loves her. "Are you confident in the 'I love you' return?" Jerry inquires. "Otherwise, that's a pretty big Matzah Ball you've left hanging." As soon as I knew that I was most likely guaranteed a second line, I broke out my lone First Response Early Result test (a gift that accompanied the Endometrin, which I was also saving for when/if I became pregnant again). I didn't break Aramis's record of twenty seconds, but the colour in the test line came through before the control line. That had never happened to me before.

Obligatory FRER Picture

I had promised myself that I would break my POAS habit, but even after replaying Misery's voice mail three times, I needed something tangible to show that I was actually pregnant. I needed to erase any doubt that the lab had switched my blood sample, or perhaps Misery intended to leave that message for another patient. My second beta came back at 839. The Monster at the end of the book was none other than furry, lovable Grover himself. Thirty-five years later, I now understood the message to that story. You must face your fears; and sometimes, they may not be as scary as you thought.