I've been thinking lately about how I seem to live my life in two week increments as a result of infertility. I start a new cycle, and I spent two weeks waiting to ovulate, living with the knowledge that I am not pregnant. Then, I ovulate, and I spend two weeks waiting to find out if we conceived, adjusting my habits according to the fact that I might be pregnant (i.e., having only one cup of coffee or tea per day, not doing exercises that pregnant women are supposed to avoid). Then I start a new cycle, go back to my un-pregnant habits, and begin all over again.
Another blogger wrote a thoughtful post about the infertility pattern of waiting and wishing; you can read it here.