Can You Still Fail If You Don't Try?

Howdy.

It's been an interesting few days. The dear friend that I wrote about in my last post is still moaning on FB about her lack of sleep and I'm still going round in circles. However it is something else that is plaguing me today.

On Monday of this week, I passed my probation at work. Yay! I am now a bona fide, real and proper employee at this lovely lovely wonderful new job of mine. Whoop! The trouble is, this then led hubby to broach the subject yesterday that we really should start trying properly again. Not that we've particularly abstained, but there has been no diary checking and no waiting as there's been no pressure.

What if, now all is so much better in our lives, it still doesn't happen? We're physically both fine (apparently) so surely now we've reduced the stress that plagued us last year it should happen within a few months, yes? But what if it doesn't? What if we keep trying and it still doesn't happen. I mean, I know we have other plans in place (IVF, adoption) but they're just plans. It's not as if we'll ever actually need them. Will we......??

In my head I'd rather not try at all because if we don't try then we can't fail. By the same logic we also can't succeed! But I'd rather live with that fact than with the constant monthly heartbreak of failing. The fact it might actually work this time doesn't do anything to quell my fears as I'm convinced it won't happen.

He says I shouldn't feel like that, to be honest I think he has difficulty understanding why I feel like that. But I just can't cope with the failure. The ongoing complete and utter disappointment. But it is true - I'd rather not try at all than try and fail.

Wow, this is a depressing post!! It kinda relates to a post I wrote a couple of months ago (here) and it is something I've been thinking about a lot lately knowing my probation at the new job was coming to an end.

Maybe it's just December-itus. We're coming to the end of the year and I desperately want a break. Aside from 3 days (over a weekend) camping by the coast we've not had a holiday this year. Hubby has pretty much used up all of his for weddings/stag dos and job interviews whereas I used the rest of mine when we moved house. We've both got the full two weeks of Christmas and New Year off so maybe that will shake my mood.

I have been feeling blue for a while, that kinda PMT-like feeling when you're just down and want to cry. And then you want an argument and to punch something. Yeah, that. A black cloud just hanging over me. Yep, a break is most definitely needed.

Maybe then I'll actually want to try, I will have steeled myself for the potential failure and I'll actually look forward to things maybe happening rather than being certain that they won't. Who knows. Stranger things have happened.

The Bitch is Back..... (**warning, sweary post**)

Good morning folks.

I find myself in interesting mood this morning. A very very close friend of mine who I am incredibly fond of is not what I would call a 'natural' mother - and I do not mean any disservice to her at all, she is a wonderful mother but for some it comes naturally and for some it doesn't. Fact. And neither makes you any less of a mother, it's just how it goes.

She has two little boys and both births were difficult, particularly the first when she also suffered with horrific post-natal depression. Nevertheless she always tries her best and does whatever she can for her boys. However. She is not backwards in coming forwards when it comes to sharing (most) of this journey on Facebook.

Those of you that have read some of my other blogposts will know I have general issues with FB on the subject of 'over sharing'. I have many friends who will post 'have had such a hard day' or 'I feel really down' just to get all the sympathy posts that will follow. This bugs the living crap out of me. Imagine if I was completely honest on my FB page about how I was feeling and what I was going through?! No thank you. Horrific as it is I'd rather keep it to myself and my nearest and dearest thank you very much. Well, and you lot :D

Anyway, back to my original point. The other day said friend posted the following on FB:

"Up every single hour with the baby wanting a feed, or a poo, or a cuddle. On my fucking knees with exhaustion. He screams all day, and he screams all night. Seriously wishing the next two years away."

I find myself torn. Of course she is having a difficult time, of course the early stages of a baby's life are difficult and if you have a baby that just screams all day and all night it would drive you insane. Sleep deprivation is the worst at the best of times let alone when you need to be fully functional to look after a small person. But here is when my bitchiness just wants to scream BUT AT LEAST YOU HAVE A FUCKING BABY!!!

How bad does that make me feel?!? This woman is someone I count as one of my closest friends and yet, when she is in need, all I want to do is turn it on myself and go on about what I don't have rather than thinking what I could do to help her. This is what infertility does to you!!! This is the complete and utter head fuck that trying for so long and failing for so long does to you. I would not wish this on anyone.

If my friend ever reads this then I am truly sorry - but I cannot help how all these types of posts that go on about the difficulties of newborns make me feel. I am fully aware how difficult having a newborn can be, really I am - no, I have no children of my own (and who knows if I will ever have any) but I am not oblivious to the difficulties involved. And so I find myself being bitchy about what has been said and then feeling guilty for feeling bitchy, then I feel that I shouldn't deny myself feeling like this because of everything I have been through it's inevitable and then I hate myself for feeling like that as she's clearly having a very difficult time and I should wish her no ill. This is seriously shittily shit shit shit.

Oh the circle of thoughts that go through my fucked-up mind......

I'm going to make a cup of tea. Nah, screw that. I'm going to pour a large gin and tonic.

A Rock and A Hard Place - Fear or Fraud??

Well hello ladies. And gents? Not sure if I have any gents reading this but suddenly aware I was generalising! :D

Anyway - howdy.

Well, autumn is most definitely here. The trees outside my office window have very few leaves left on them, the wind is kicking up and it's getting colder. Which isn't all bad, it means I can crack out the comfy jumpers. Also means evenings are really really dark which turns in to snuggle time on the sofa with hubs :) usually accompanied by a glass of wine and a boxset - but not always!

Which also means my mind turns to other things. Whilst we've not exactly abstained, we've not been 'actively' trying for a few months now as I settled in to my new job and worked through my probationary period. Didn't really want to turn round during that time and tell them I needed maternity leave! No matter how slim that chance was. So, I'm very soon to be going back to checking the diary and taking extra vitamins blah blah blah. We were told by the consultant to reduce stress (since physically, we're both absolutely fine - so they say anyway) and so no spreadsheets, no ovulation tests. Just going at it! Sorry.....

We have done everything we can to reduce the stress in our lives. We've moved house, I have a new job and generally we're just so so so much happier. So surely, since it had to be stress as it was nothing physical (2013 really was incredibly shitty. The end of 2012 wasn't great either), I should get knocked up pretty easily now - no? And then the fear creeps in. What if I still can't get pregnant. Even though I am in just the best place I've been in for years, both personally and professionally - what if it still doesn't happen? Will that crashing low of the monthly arrival be even worse now I've convinced myself our issues were psychological and everything is now tip-top, howdy-doody and fine? I realise, even for those 'normal' folk (apologies, can't think of a better word!) it takes a few months so even if we're are now fine I wouldn't expect things to happen for a month or two.

But what happens if, in six months' time, there is still no sign of anything? Or worse - what if I do get pregnant? I'll feel such a fraud for telling people about our journey and our IF diagnosis. Will people think I tricked them? Will they not understand just how hard all this has been? Will they think I over dramatized all of our pain and issues that we went through? Will they say "See, I told you you just had to relax and everything would be fine". And if they do, can I hit them with a wet fish?!

So. I actually find myself almost not wanting to start checking the diary again. Not wanting to start properly properly trying once more. I feel like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. If it doesn't happen then IVF is on the horizon (my mum has very kindly offered to pay, we don't get it on the NHS where we live) and also possibly adoption (which hubby and I are both totally fine with). If it does happen then will I feel like I've let down my IF family on Twitter and that I'll no longer be welcome in the community that has supported me so much through the horrors so far.

A rock to the left of me, a hard place to the right, stuck in the middle with my own nightmares.

Wet, tired, cold - but still happy! Ish....

It's days like today when I absolutely and completely love my job.

The morning did not start well.... Hubby and I were awoken at 4am by a very loud dripping sound (it was raining incredibly heavily outside) and initially thought it was coming on to the window ledge - before we realised the noise was it actually hitting the, already wet, duvet on our bed. We were suddenly wide awake, running to get buckets and towels. Couldn't really call the landlord at 4am! So we made the best of it and I made the bed up in the spare room (as yet unmade, no visitors to stay so far since we moved in July) whilst hubby went into the loft to see if our stuff up there was soaking wet. All ok from initial investigations (further investigations this morning proved it, we just need to do some rearranging up there tonight and we'll put a bucket up there too) so we bedded down in the spare room, where for some reason the rain sounded louder than it had from our room.

Hubby took today off work at short notice (far more difficult for me to do that now since I've moved from the corporate work to education) and called the landlord at 9am. He was round within the hour but we're not sure when it's going to get fixed as roofers won't come out in the rain. Who knew?!

To add to this, my office is in a separate building to the main school and I get in this morning to find there is no heating. At all. In October. In Blightly. Brrrrrrrrrrr. So. I was rudely awoken at 4am and didn't really get back to sleep again, I was up at 6am to come to work and sit in a freezing cold office. I am grumpy. BUT. I am in an office by myself, if I flick to Twitter or FB every now and again to keep me awake so what? As long as I make darned sure I do what has to be done today and I do what I need to do this week I have every intention of leaving today as early as isn't rude. Would that have happened in my old job?! Hell no.

I am trusted to just get on with my job, I'm not checked up on. I'm not asked every few hours what I'm working on or what I have coming up. For someone like me, who works best independently when trusted to do so as I often take small breaks to ensure my concentration stays put, this is a dream. Having said all that, with the job I do it would be blindingly obvious pretty quickly if I wasn't doing something I should be or if something goes wrong! But I know that as long as I have tried my best, and it isn't a spectacular cock up, they'll understand a genuine mistake. Not that I really want to test that theory! But still, it's good to know.

So, I sit here in a freeeezing cold office with not much sleep and yes - I'm grumpy. But only tired-grumpy, not angry-at-the-world grumpy. And soon I will be going home, where it's warm and a good hug awaits me. As well as gin. There are far worse places to be in life.

2014 so far: New Job, New House, New-found Happiness :)

Wow. I am knackered. Completely and utterly shattered. It's not been a particularly busy week. Yes, there have been a few evening activities but they've pretty much finished in time for me to get back home and to bed at what is about our usual hour.

The difference has been work. Which leads me quite nicely to the update I have been promising you for a while now! Just what has changed since we got our infertility diagnosis last December? Quite a lot really, is the short answer to that.

Physically we had both checked out fine. Which was a relief and a frustration in equal measure. Great, nothing's wrong! Crap, what do we do now if nothing's wrong? The other thing the consultant had mentioned when we saw her was the amount of stress in our lives. This lead to hubby and I doing some soul-searching over the Christmas break - neither of us was overly happy with our lot. Don't get me wrong, we're both alive and in good health! We have fantastic family and friends, jobs and a roof over our head. So I don't wish to sound ungrateful, there are plenty with less, but we weren't happy.

I had disliked work for a considerable amount of time. Over two years by the time we were having these discussions last Christmas. The sticking point was the maternity policy, it was insanely good (12 months on varied amounts of pay, but essentially no time at all on no pay at all - pretty much unheard of) and so I had been sticking it out as I would have been mad to leave whilst we were trying. But the more I thought about it the less that actually made sense, especially now. Chances are I couldn't get pregnant, so why was I sticking around for a reason that probably wasn't going to happen?! Worse still, if by some miracle we did conceive I'd have to stick it out there until I went on maternity leave. Not only that I'd then have to go back afterwards (at least for a minimum of six months so as not to forfeit the maternity money). The thought of which did not appeal in the slightest. And yes, I would always have had to go back to work - hubby earns a lot less than I do so conversations about me giving up work to look after kids are pretty much redundant.

The more I thought about it the more I realised I'd pretty much given myself an escape clause - a 'get out of jail' card if you will. I no longer had any reason to stay at the big corporate conglomerate whom I had grown to dislike. The question was, what on earth could I do instead?! I'd been there seven years and was doing something completely different before that, which meant that in my mid-30s I'd be looking to completely change career and for the second time.

My mother was a secondary school teacher by profession and, although she has now retired, she still shows an interest and has many contacts in the education world. I can't remember whether she showed me or I showed her to be honest, but there was an advert in the local paper for an Admissions Registrar for a private school not far from where we live. It seemed to play to an awful lot of my strengths and not only that, there was the cliché of wanting to do something 'worthwhile' rather than just make money for fat cats and spout marketing bollocks. Which, quite frankly, I'd got more than a little sick of. So I had nothing to lose, I applied for it. I didn't get anywhere with that one but I thought I'd found what it was that I wanted to do. 

So that's what I kept looking for, that and similar roles in schools. How much of a relief would it be to work somewhere that was people-focused rather than profit-focused? Just what I wanted to do :) And after a few months I got somewhere, March 2014 I had an interview for an Admissions job at a junior school on the other side of London to where we live. Still, the commute was manageable and I had nothing to lose so off I went.

To cut an incredibly long story short I didn't get that job (turned out that not only was it term time only but also that the salary was therefore pro-rated accordingly!) but as part of the interview process for it I met the Headmistress of the senior school and her PA - and there was another role going at the school that seemed to be perfect for me. They had appointed but their chosen candidate had pulled out after initially accepting the offer so they were in the process of deciding whether to go through all the old applications again or whether to re-advertise. It very much felt like fate :)

Two interviews and a weekend of waiting later and the job was mine! Such a huge relief. I started in April and have never looked back. We also moved house in July to something far more manageable for the two of us (we'd initially rented quite a large house thinking we wouldn't be just two for long....) and hubby has also spent the year job hunting and is now on the verge of a completely different career that would not only up his salary but also be so much more fulfilling for him too.

So there we go. No, I'm still not pregnant but so much has changed so far this year that we are both in such a better place. I genuinely don't think I realised just how unhappy I was until things changed and I found out how happy I could be. I might be knackered, being fuelled solely by caffeine and biscuits, but I have a smile on my face.

There is more I want to write, but this blog post is long enough for now! I shall write more later to try and split this into two digestible (ish...) portions. Hopefully!

Back later xx

Plagiarism is the highest form of flattery, right?!

Well, I’m not technically plagiarising as I am merely sharing this lovely lady’s writing rather than claiming it as my own! And I have said lady’s permission :) I’ve just had one of those moments when you read what someone else has written and think – jeez, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling. The last point I make below especially ties in with my last blog post on ‘going public’. So, here goes.

First point of note, I’ve had a lot of people lately saying ‘oh, I just know it’ll happen when the time is right’. No, no you don’t. It may never happen, how can you be so sure it’ll happen when the medical experts aren’t?! Which is exactly what this post is about, how many people think they’re helping when they say ‘supportive’ things but are actually making you feel worse? Her second point in this post is another one I’ve had a lot from people ‘I know exactly how you feel’ – no, no you don’t.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/when-in-doubt-dont-ask.html

This is another one I can sympathise with, although my HSG experience wasn’t as bad as the Endometrial Biopsy that she describes, I completely and utterly felt a lot of the same things about the experience rather than the ‘mild cramping’ that you’re supposed to get. Her doctor asking for forgiveness rather than permission, being glad hubby wasn’t actually there after all as no one wants to see their spouse go through that, and then finally – the realisation that actually, ladies, we are much much stronger than we think we are and we should damn well give ourselves the credit for it.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/endometrial-biopsy-from-hell.html

Finally, this is something EVERYONE should read. It something we’ve struggled with – who do you tell? When do you tell? How much should you tell them? And not only that, remember that you can stop telling whenever you so wish. Sometimes I don’t want to talk about things, sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t want to answer all the questions people have and describe the procedure we’ve been through (that’s why I have my blog :D ), sometimes I want people to know everything to try and understand what’s going on.

I have friends, and relatives, who have tried to be too helpful – suggesting all manner of things and I just don’t have the time or energy to tell them I’d rather stick with what the docs are telling us thank you very much. Likewise there are times when all I want those that know to say is ‘you’ve been in my thoughts lately’ rather than ask a ton of probing questions.

http://saltinthewomb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/to-tell-or-not-to-tell.html

So there you go. All this really does is reinforce the lovely feeling I have that I’m not alone going through this. There are others out there, they feel the same as I do about a lot of things and so it’s not strange to have these ups and downs and nor is it strange to want to tell those closest to you to leave you alone as you just can’t face another conversation. It’s all fantastic to know.

Pseudonyms and thinking about 'going public'....

Morning folks.

Before I update you all on what's happened in 2014 so far (apologies again for my distinct lack of blogs over the past seven months or so….) I wanted to share some thoughts I've been having. 

There are many of us in this wonderful TTC community that I have discovered on Twitter and through reading other blogs. It has been an incredible source of not only support but also information since I embarked on this journey almost three years ago. As with most of you, I write under a pseudonym and the vast majority of people in my life have no idea what's been going on let alone how I really feel about it. I have a regular twitter account as well as the one connected to this blog, but (I think…) the pseudonym I have is carefully chosen so I'm as sure as I can be that I'm very well hidden. 

But how would I feel if those people who really knew who I was found this blog and read it? I've not named any names and, aside from family members where it is blindingly obvious, there are only a few friends who I have described well enough for them (should they read it) to work out who I'm talking about. I don't believe I've been mean or malicious towards anyone. What I have been is very blunt and honest about how I've been feeling. It's very raw. Almost every time I write a blog post or go through the tweets of those I follow I well up and there have been many occasions I have cried as I've been typing/reading. This 'rawness' is another reason I prefer to stay anonymous. There's something about talking to strangers that makes it easier to open up and talk honestly. Without fear of judgement I guess.

However, I have a friend (who I intend to write more about) who has started writing her own blog about the struggles and thoughts she has had whilst bringing up her son who has cerebral palsy. She has been very honest about her journey (he is now about 8 months old I think) and she has shared it openly on her Facebook page. I think this is an incredibly brave thing to do. She has opened up about how she has found things and allowed others to read and comment. Until last week no one (not even hubby) knew I wrote this or had an alternative Twitter account. Her bravery led me to have a very honest text conversation with her and I admitted, as hers had moved me so much, that I wrote a blog too. I didn't tell her what it was about (she doesn't know anything, although she may well have guessed to be fair) but I think I would have done if she'd asked. I may yet let her know and send her a link, I may not. But the fact I'd told her kinda made me think I'd better tell hubby! Which I did. He said he didn't want to see it, or know where to look for it on Twitter, as it was mine and something to help me. Which I understand. But he did say he was pleased I was doing it and had such a supportive community around me. 

So, after discussions on Twitter about publishing with another Tweeter (is that the correct noun?!) and finally opening up to a couple of people that this exists, it kinda makes me wonder if I want to dip my toe into the waters of making this public.... Once I've done it I know I can't go back. It's an 'all or nothing' kinda decision! Part of me is scared, part of me wants the world to know exactly what's been going on behind closed doors.

The decision certainly needs a lot more thought. So for now, dear readers, I think I'll leave it between us. As for the future? Who knows.

Finally, the update from December 2013! I know it's now August 2014. What can I say?! Oops....

Well Hello. It’s been a while.

And for that I sincerely apologise. There’s no real decent explanation, other than the fact I’ve been really busy. I shall explain all shortly, but I guess I should catch you up from my last blog post in December last year! (December?! Jeez…).

First things first, I realise I’ve been incredibly tardy and not let you all know how our meeting with the consultant on 10^th December went. Interesting, I think is the way to put it. The consultant was lovely and said that all tests (even the dreaded HSG!!!) had come back absolutely fine, no issues at all. Just as a final double check they wanted to give me an x-ray. An internal x-ray. Dontcha just love it when they spring that on you?! So there I was again, knickers round my ankles with no prior warning, having a probe covered in a condom inserted. Yay. Still, they saw my ovaries clearly – to the point where they could see an egg just about to pop**! Blimey. It really is all ok then?! In which case why had it been (at that point) over 18 months with no success??

So the consultant discharged us, there was nothing more they could do. They don’t offer IVF on the NHS where we live (and we don’t fancy moving to the nearest NHS Trust to us that does) so she gave us a price list and said it was completely up to us how long we left it before we went down that route. We are officially diagnosed with ‘unexplained infertility’ – in that everything seems to be working, there is no reason why we shouldn’t be able to conceive, but for whatever reason we can’t. She also asked us about stress, which was an interesting conversation, as it is something both of us have wondered about. And it’s something I will come back to in more detail later. But there you go. For now at least; no more hospitals, no more drugs, no more prodding, poking and unplanned insertions.

December 2013 also gave us our final slap in the face of the year. Which is not a pleasant way of putting it, and I absolutely mean no ill will to those concerned, but that’s how it felt. Plain and simple. We are very lucky in that we have the most utterly gorgeous nephew and that we see my brother and sister-in-law as often as time allows (my brother works shifts, which makes finding a weekend we’re both free difficult). I was also very aware that they wanted another baby, they didn’t want their son to be an only child. Brilliant, I thought, I’m ok so if we can conceive within a cycle or two of each other the cousins will be about the same age and how fab would that be!

On 22^nd December they all came round to ours. They’d been with us a while, nephew had been out splashing in puddles, and then they dropped it on us. She was pregnant. And they hadn’t just found out – she was due to have a 12 week scan a week later. Holy cow the mixed emotions. So thrilled we would have another nephew or niece, wonderful our nephew would have a brother or sister. Stunned that the lovely little picture I’d had in my head of cousins together had just been torn up in to a hundred thousand little pieces right in front of me. I couldn’t cope. I excused myself and went and sobbed, whole-heartedly sobbed, in the bathroom.

What I must however state, despite all that, is just how incredibly touched we both were by my brother and sister-in-law telling us when they did. Just the five (altho I guess actually six!) of us together, before they had told any friends or either set of parents. We were second to know after the doctor. And for that I will be forever thankful. It did however present itself with a very interesting set of circumstances when all the parents found out a few days later as an extra Christmas present! I haven’t told her parents anything, although I guess she could have so they might know, but my parents were completely torn. Thrilled for them, but wanted to make sure we were ok.

So there you go. That’s all from December. Bye bye 2013 – you go down as truly one of the worst years I have ever known. F*ck off, and roll on 2014 J

**and yes, having seen an egg ready to pop we did indeed get to it for the next few days. Altho, as I’m pretty sure you can guess, it didn’t work.