The following 336 hours will be extreme. No, the following 336 hours will be truly intense…
I feel like an Olympian, holding up to see whether the times of diligent work, yield and commitment are at last going to pay off, or whether my body is going to fall flat me at the last obstacle and make me ask why I ever trusted I could win.
My closest companion is pregnant, my single companions are arranging their pregnancies and, in the wake of five prolonged years of tests and examinations, I’m arriving at the finish of my third – and probably last – IVF treatment. There are 336 hours to make due before I’ll know whether I get the opportunity to join the parenthood club. That is 224 waking hours of immaculate mental torment. 112 resting hours to gaze at the roof and ponder, what the heck am I going to do with my life in the event that it turns out I can’t have children?
In view of the creator’s actual educational encounters, ‘336 Hours’ is an amusing and powerful journal around one lady’s mission to be a mother.