Still Passing Open Windows ....

Moving on

When I broke up with my first serious boyfriend I was so angry and sad that I got rid of everything that reminded me of him and our almost two years together. I changed perfumes. I changed my wardrobe and I took pride in getting dressed in clothes that I hadn't owned when we were going out. I even changed some of my habits that reminded me too much of him. I changed the guys I noticed. Gone were the quiet, cappucino-drinking, computer types. If a guy ordered a cappucino or said he worked in IT, it was the kiss of death and I moved on faster than you could say, "Bad memories."

When I lost my son I was simply staggering. Getting through the days took everything. Now losing my daughter I am angry again and I am going through a similar purging process as when I broke up. It is less extreme but bagloads of stuff go out the door to the charity shop - bags of wool containing entire knitting projects I was working on during the 5 months of my pregnancy, all my pregnancy clothes, the jersey I wore almost every day, the pregnancy books I bought in eager expectation that this time it would work - and I don't look at any photos from that time. I just can't. If I could I would erase those five months totally from my history. It just seems like such a waste; a waste of H and my time and energy, a terrible, tragic waste of a little life, just a waste of hoping.

"You seem bitter," says a friend. Mmm, you don't say.

Cynical Thought for Today

When people say, "I don't know how you can deal with this," I just answer, "You have no choice. Life goes on." I wake up and I have to go to the bathroom and then I shower and speak to H and go to work and get hungry and eat something and drive home and watch TV. Life doesn't just stop because you're sad.

So my cynical thought for today is 'Of course I will make it through. What's going to happen? It's highly unlikely that a car will fall on my head.' I'll still be here tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.

And what is your cynical thought for the day?

Finding some meaning

I don't have much to say, there isn't really much happening but I have to write an update as it has been ages since I last wrote anything. To continue with the theme of there isn't really much happening, I went back to work last week and it went fine. Better than I expected. So now I am back at work.

Yup.

And that is all there is to say unfortunately about work. You see, my job is not this super fulfilling one that gives my life meaning. I don't spend a day at work and forget about all the other crap because I am doing something that absorbs me and that I do well. My job is just a job. It pays me enough to do what I want to do on the weekends and it has a great medical insurance but it's nothing more. I am not learning more or developing skills I want to develop. I wonder if I had a job I loved, if I had a job that made me leap out of bed in the mornings and not notice time going by when I was there, if this infertility thing would be easier to deal with.

Those of you who have jobs you love, does it help? Do you feel less empty and useless when you are at work?

Why don't you ....

I spoke to a friend last night. She has been trying to phone me. I have been trying to avoid her. I started trying to fall pregnant 6 months before she did and told her. She said they weren't ready. Nine months later she phoned to say she was pregnant. She now has two children, her second born a few days after my son's due date.

She and I have often been in the same place at the same time; we have similar interests and often we will call to find that we are both into raw food or reading the same book or questioning similar issues. She tries very hard to understand and not to impose her childful life on me when she calls, hence probably the talk about books and diets. However, as I was saying to H, if you haven't lived it you have no way of understanding it. "What about adoption?" she asked hesitantly and when I spoke of my worries about attachment and bonding, she said, "You mustn't think too much about those things." The problem is I do, and actually I must. I have to consider all the implications and consequences, as far as it's possible for my attention-deficit little mind which loves to skim-read a few sites and make a flash decision. And, the big AND, for someone who has children easily and when and how they want to a large extent, adoption is simply a solution. They have no idea of the tears and energy and pain and questioning that have gone before. I think that to a large number of fertiles adoption, or IUI or IVF or surrogacy or whatever one decides to do, is THE SOLUTION. The possibility of failure, the cost of getting to this point, the cost involved in carrying on is like the hidden part of the iceberg. "Ok now everything is solved, let's go and have coffee. And just think, this time next year you'll be here with your baby," I can almost hear my friends saying.

I know I am being unfair. I know people mean well. I know they want to help but suggestions from the fertile community always upset me. At the moment the only people I am listening to are the infertile bloggers because they get it, they know the costs involved, in getting to this point and in carrying on. Thank you to all of you who have commented or emailed, it has helped me so much in feeling part of a group of women and not like the weirdo outsider.