Endgame

Well, the blue pills are still working. No doubt about that one!! And if you'd offered me the sex life we have now (altho I'd still like it a bit more frequently admittedly, but fact is we're still living apart and I'm out most evenings in the week at the moment) two years ago I would have bitten your arm off for it. Literally probably!! But this is not two years ago. This is now. And I'm less then six months to the age of 40.

Yes, the pills are working. Yes, we're having sex. But there is still one thing missing that needs to happen if we're going to conceive. Please don't make me say it...… But yes, we're not getting 'endgame'. He's not getting to the point he needs to to be able to do what we need to do. We're not sure why, never used to be a problem. Yet again, something else gets taken away just as another puzzle piece falls in to place.

But then it happened. On an evening when I was due to ovulate the following day. Perfect timing! I didn't want to get my hopes up but it was the closest we'd ever made it timings wise. I tried not to think about it. But then I felt myself ovulate the following day as planned (yes yes I know, I'm a freak. I've always been able to feel it) and over the course of the next week there was more twinges. As if things were fusing together, things were changing. I could feel it. It was the weirdest thing. I noticed hormonal changes that I wouldn't usually have at that particular time in my cycle. I wanted to ignore it but the little voice in the back of my head just got louder and louder 'you're pregnant, you're pregnant'. Absolutely absurd, I had no proof of this other than knowing what I was feeling within my own body. But I couldn't shut the voice up. I tried to tell myself I was just being positive, that I knew it was unlikely to have happened and I knew I needed to ignore the voice for another few weeks. But it got harder and harder.

Then I went out with my mum to an exhibition, ten days after hubby and I had finally got there. And all of a sudden something changed, I felt something detach. I knew I'd lost it. The voice was silent and no matter how hard I tried to hear it it just wasn't there anymore. I wanted the ground to just open up and swallow me. But there I was, out for the day with my mum. Who, of course, knows absolutely nothing (despite constantly asking me a hundred questions and it's getting harder and harder to fob her off. I mean, why does she NEED to know everything??!?). I waited until I got home. I cried. And I have not stopped. Again, absurd. Can you mourn for the loss of something you didn't actually know for certain that you had in the first place? But it felt like I did know, even though I couldn't have done. A different kind of endgame. And so now I just wait for it to be confirmed.