The Trap of Over-Planning

I am a problem solver. A planner. If there is a question that needs to be answered, I want to address it immediately, usually by doing the following:

1. Learning everything I can about the issue,

2. Identifying the potential answers or solutions (preferably in spreadsheet form),

3. Picking the best option and never looking back.

This impulse, combined with the childhood lesson to “finish one task before starting another,” is not without its advantages. I am usually prepared, and well informed or able to be shortly - plus my passion for research and spreadsheets has definitely been an asset to my career. The flip side, however, is that I tend to hyper-fixate on things in my life that don’t have a simple solution, especially when there are factors outside of my control. That need for control has definitely been apparent in our fertility journey so far - but never as pronounced as it’s been since Covid-19 showed up and wrought havoc on all our carefully crafted plans.

Because I work in education, we decided to plan our first transfer for April of this year, so that (if successful) my maternity leave would overlap with Winter break - netting me an 2 extra weeks of paid leave. I tried to pay attention to that “if successful,” because I know that multiple attempts are common, and I wanted to mitigate the disappointment if our first cycle failed. I am relatively young, with no known fertility issues (my endocrinologist called my uterus “textbook” - no brag) - and my chances of success were estimated at 40-50% per attempt. Those are pretty good odds, but it’s not as if our first cycle is guaranteed to work. Still, this is a decision we made based around the end result (taking leave in December), so it’s hard not to put the cart out front just a little bit. Despite my better judgement, I already knew the benchmarks of this purely potential pregnancy. It was one of the first things that came to mind when we talked about the near future - would I be pregnant at the time? How far along? Etc.

My transfer would have taken place on 4/20/2020, and the closer we get to that date, the gloomier I feel. There won’t be a transfer this month, and I have no way of knowing when there will be. Still, I find myself trying to work out timelines based on the information that can be gleaned from news reports. According to this model, cases in California could peak mid April, meaning life should be all but back to normal beginning in May. Medication in May would mean a transfer in June - which if successful would mean a due date in early March. My brain spins out ahead into the future without my say-so: planning and planning for an outcome that may even not exist. ASRM is a national organization, and their guidelines were the deciding factor when my clinic canceled my first cycle. Are they likely to take California’s early peak into account in their evaluation of the national situation? Further, the study I referenced assumes that we will continue social distancing through the month of May. Will my clinic allow me to begin a new cycle when ‘nonessential’ medical procedures are discouraged? What if California doesn't extend the order? What if they do, but people don't cooperate? Will there be a resurgence in infections? There are so many increasingly dire questions that are simply impossible to answer. So how do I find peace in not knowing the answers?

A common therapy refrain for those who struggle with anxiety (hey!) is that you do the best you can with the information you have at the time. I don’t tend to struggle with regret, but I do have anxiety and guilt over potential unseen consequences of my actions before I’ve taken them. I’m afraid of being viewed as foolish, ill-informed, inconsiderate, and so on. The anxiety is always pointed forward - towards the things that have yet to happen which are outside of my control. In some ways, it’s probably good training for parenthood. I know that children are unpredictable and the ability to be flexible - to adjust on the fly - is an invaluable skill for parents to have. And while the waiting without answers feels interminable, with any luck it will only be a few months' delay. In the grand scheme of things a few months isn’t that long to wait to meet someone we’ll know for an entire lifetime. I try to focus on that - even though it feels impossible to shut off the noise sometimes. Maybe, just maybe, if I can imagine all the ways this will go wrong, maybe I can imagine some of the ways it will go right, too.

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