Sunday, 26 June 2011

If I'm Being Honest ...

I sometimes worry that this blog is unrealistic, that it can give the impression that I find everything pretty easy - except for the occasional blip around a negative - but generally that I trot on cheerfully with treatments, plans, injections and drugs.

I use this blog as a form of therapy. If I know I'm going to blog about a topic I try and think about the humour in the situation. It helps me to work out how I am going to relate my latest appointment in a way that will explain what is still going on but still be entertaining, it keeps me sane.

I don't want to mislead you. I've realised, particularly in the last week, that I'm not fine.

I act normal. I look normal. I haven't lost my appetite (more's the pity).

I can go in to work and function really well (except maybe on Thursday afternoon when I burst into tears in the office). I can write posts about Doctors appointments and crack jokes. I can make optimistic plans about next steps.

But I'm not fine.

About a week after the initial adrenalin of a negative, in which I organised appointments and made lists, things didn't get better, they got worse.  Maybe it is the progesterone come down, or just that I'd ground to a halt with my 'next steps'.

I'm struggling.

I blink up tears several times a day. Sometimes for no apparent reason. Sometimes because a pregnancy has been alluded to on twitter, or facebook, or the office, or a meeting, or a bloody property programme (I swear there has to be a study done showing number of pre-menopausal women on property programmes who get pregnant during the filming - it has to be a fertility charm, sign me up for Grand Designs). I've stopped wearing mascara because it spends more time running down my cheeks than lengthening my lashes.

I've thought about counseling.  Although I'm not sure that is the answer, because what I am feeling is perfectly normal for people going through what I, what we, are going through. I can't be expected to feel normal all the time. I need to grieve for by 26 embryos that never made it.

But don't worry about me I know I will start to feel better soon, once I've let time do its thing.

I'm turning off comments for this post, because it isn't about me. I'm not writing this to elicit sympathy, or to get told how brave I am. I'm writing this because I don't want anyone else to think they are the only one not coping and that I find it easy.  Or worse, I don't want anyone to see a friend struggling with infertility and think that it can't be that bad because Womb For Improvement seems to cope perfectly well.



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