This Path of Self Destruction That I Choose for Myself.

Well, this is difficult to write. The past couple of weeks have been incredibly eye-opening.

I sit here pretty much close to tears, and whilst I admit I may not be entirely sober, the old adage of things coming to light clearly whence otherwise they might be blurry comes to mind.

My oldest group of girlfriends are meeting up again on Monday. Without me. I was not invited. The girl who is organising it is the girl I speak of here, the one who is going to California in January for gender selective IVF. The gathering has been organised through Facebook messenger, which I have bemoaned of in the past. I cannot get on Facebook at work (due to the nature of my employment it is a banned site) and I refuse to install FB messenger on my phone due to all the various connotations of what is involved and what privacy you give up during the download. Therefore I have frequently said to my friends that, whilst they may organise things through FB, it is always best to text me as well. And at every other meet up this has been done. Right up to the meet up in October when I finally opened up to said friend and admitted that I couldn't be around her at this current moment in time. Up until I admitted that to her I had been texted about any meet up despite a FB conversation running parallel.

For this December meet up I was not included in the messages. No one texted me to let me know it was happening. I found out when and where due to second hand conversations with other friends. The reason being banded about for me not going is that I refuse to participate in FB messenger conversations (bollocks, this has been the case for years and previously they have just texted me instead) or that I 'cannot cope' with the large en masse group meet ups when they talk about nothing but children (again, bollocks. This may have been the case last year when things were more raw but I have got a lot better this year and made at least one of said group meet ups. Not the issue it was anymore). It irks like you wouldn't believe that these things are being said behind my back. These assumptions that are not true, that not one of them has the balls to actually confront me about and ask if that is indeed that case.

The one and only reason that I have not been invited to this particular meet up is that the person organising it knows I do not want to be around her. No. Other. Reason. And not only that, the organiser has not admitted to the group why. Which is, I imagine, why the other reasons I outlined above are being banded about. There is one and one reason only why I do not want to go - her. And as she is organising it she cannot admit to that. If someone asks why I am not there it is clearly easier for her to make up an excuse rather than to say 'she doesn't want to be around me at the moment'.

Now, I feel at this point I should admit something to you dear reader. I am not exactly sober. I have had a particularly rubbish week at work. That has exacerbated my feelings. Does that mean that the basis in which my feelings lie are rubbish? No. Absolutely not. Does that mean I may well have not picked the best words and might have overreacted slightly to current events? Yes, that is entirely likely. However, in the same breath that does not make my feelings worthless. It does not make the rawness and pain in my heart any less real. That these girls, who I have known for twenty years now, who I opened my heart up to earlier this year and let them know exactly what we were going through, I feel I am drifting from. I feel they no longer understand where I am coming from. Where I am.

Is this self imposed? Is that the old-fashioned self-fulfilling prophecy? That I am clearly not worthy of good things. That I don't deserve anything that I'd actually like to have. That someone somewhere has decided that I shouldn't have a family, that I shouldn't have what most people hold dear. That I am destined to be alone (which is horseshite, I have a wonderful family and the most absolutely truly amazing husband) and that this suffering is actually enjoyable.Therefore I destroy these things, therefore I don't have them, therefore I was not worthy of them in the first place. The old vicious circle. Is this wallowing in self pity? Not entirely. Is this raising the ghosts of a very very troubled teenage years? More than likely.

It may not also help that I have hardly seen hubby this week. With various Christmas do's and catch ups with friends, and his shifts, I last saw him properly on Tuesday evening and (aside from possibly a brief hug tomorrow morning if he gets home in time) I won't see him properly now until Sunday lunchtime. He fixes me. He knows what to do, what to say, and he always makes things better. I feel the timing of these feelings inside me and his current shift patten could not have been worse.

Maybe I am better off alone. I don't wish to sound as if I'm being self-absorbed, really I don't, but there has always been - and quite possible still is - a self destructive streak within me. Do I want to destroy these friendships as I believe I'm better off without? Just because they don't understand what I'm going through I should cut them loose? I don't know. There are members of the group who I truly love and have been absolutely wonderful friends through the darkest hours of the past year or two. But the arrangement of this meet up has brought things into sharp focus. It has left a very bitter taste in my mouth.

I hope to get past it. I hope to go back to how things were. Even, eventually, with my friend who is off to sunnier climes for dubious reasons in January. On one hand I am forever the optimist, that things will work out and we'll all be friends again. On the other hand I feel so alone that I want nothing to do with any of them. Oh the contradictions I live with. Plus ca change.

Self Protection and the Art of Avoidance

Howdy.

I appear to be borrowing from other media outlets quite a bit of late (see my twitter feed or my secondary infertility post here) but I recently came across this:

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2012/mar/31/mothers-stop-moaning-about-motherhood

Wow. Just wow. The pain in that is all too raw and, whilst I am not exactly in the same boat as I am very happily married, I can certainly relate to an awful lot of what she has to say.

Her opening gambit -

"Last week, I received an upsetting email about a pregnant acquaintance. Apparently she is devastated – I repeat, devastated – because her most recent scan shows that her unborn baby is a boy. The mother of two sons will not be having a girl and she is, our mutual emailing friend tells me, beside herself. Dreadful."


Cuts particularly deep at the moment as it strikes a little too close to home. I also have a dear friend who is a mum to three boys (I may well have blogged about her before, my memory on this is hazy but there's bound to be a mention somewhere!); three gorgeous, happy boys. Whilst she was trying for the second she tried all manner of things to try and make sure it was a girl - diet, position, day in cycle, supplements. But it wasn't to be, a bouncing boy arrived to be a brother to the first. When trying for the third she went even further.

She had read somewhere that women in Africa are statistically more likely to conceive a girl as they are malnourished. Where she got this from and how true this is I have no idea, I suspect it's utter hokem since it is a man's sperm that determines the sex of the child. It's nothing to do with the woman. But still, she believed it so went on an incredibly extreme diet -  and conceived another boy.

She is now looking to expand the brood further but is desperate for that baby girl. Erm. Why?! And this is where the infertile in me takes over - you have three healthy, easily conceived children. Yet that is not good enough for you. WHY?! Not just that, but how will the younger two feel if (heaven forbid!) they ever find out that they weren't good enough? Mum wanted a girl and did all manner of things to try and make it happen - it didn't so here you are. What on earth would that do to them? Further, I have friends (and indeed, family) who just have boys. Is that not good enough either in her eyes? You're not a success unless you have at least one of each sex? A matching pair?! Madness. And it makes me very very angry.

I have struggled to be around her, sat at the opposite end of the table at gatherings etc., but earlier this year it just all got too much. I am very fond of her, I have known her since school and she had a hand in me meeting my husband. But I can no longer be around her. She wants to go to a clinic in California for gender-selective IVF.

Again - she wants to go to a clinic in California for gender-selective IVF. She is fully aware of our situation (I 'came out' to my closest group of girlfriends, the group from school, in January this year) and, to give her a semblance of credit, she knows how mad it is that she's even considering it. But she can't let it go. Earlier this year her mum died unexpectedly, she was only in her 60s. I cannot imagine how horrible that must have been for her, genuinely I can't. However, the amount of money her mum left her is the exact amount she needs to cover the treatment and she took this as a sign. So at some point she'll be off to California for treatment, leaving behind three boys under the age of 6. How do you start to explain to them where you're going and why?! Especially when you are, to all intents and purposes, the sole carer as their father works all hours and some weekends.

I don't know what's worse - the fact that I want it to fail or the fact that I want her to conceive another boy even if it's through IVF. Having said that, she could conceive a girl who turns out to want to be a boy. Who knows. I still rather she didn't have that last outcome though......

Our group of friends all met up in October for dinner, she kept texting me asking if I was going to join them. Initially I said I just wasn't sure. But I had to be honest with her, so I told her that I couldn't see her. Didn't want to be around her. I was very clear that it was just for one reason and one reason only and that it is just for this moment in time. I am truly hopeful that at some point in the future this will not be as painful and I can cope with being around her. I also hope that the time apart won't damage our friendship too much. I do value her dearly. But at this precise moment in time I cannot trust myself around her, cannot trust myself to say something that cannot be taken back and therefore irreparably damage our relationship. For now, should I see her, it will take all the strength I posses not to grab her with both hands and yell WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???!??!???!?!!

So it's probably best that I don't see her for the foreseeable future. Which is sad, but I have to protect myself. I'm sorry as I am always in favour of putting other people first but every now and again I have to put myself first for the sake of my health and my sanity. I cannot see her at the moment. I just can't.

It's not all bad :)

After my rubbish weekend of three (three!) pregnancy announcements I decided to try and take something positive from it. Unbeknownst to me it was actually National Infertility Awareness Week (in the UK at least) last week and can you guess how much coverage there had been of that in the media? Yep, nothing. Not a sausage.

So. I wrote a post on my FB feed. I thought if I link it to NIAW then maybe people will think I'm just showing support for that rather than 'outing' myself. But at the same time part of me wondered how many others were struggling in private and for them to just have an inkling that there weren't alone made me think it was worth doing.

This is what I posted:

I must admit I thought long and hard about posting it. I wrote it and re-wrote it and hovered over the 'post' button for a good few minutes going round and round in circles in my head. As I've already mentioned (here) we decided a while ago that moving forward, whilst we won't exactly shout it from the rooftops, we would stop lying if anyone ever asked us anything. So, I posted it.....

I hadn't even realised it was the awareness week until the Sunday of that week (i.e. the last day of NIAW) and I think that's what gave me the last push to post it - if I hadn't done it on that day then it didn't really fit with that. And people could then make their own conclusions!

I was still nervous though and did think I'd give it half an hour or so and then delete it if the comments were nasty, or if there were no comments/likes at all. It could disappear into the ether as if it had never existed. But I was so touched and genuinely surprised by the response it garnered out in the 'open air' (as it were!). Not only did I have comments on my post but I also had some direct messages from friends that, of course completely unknown to me, had been fighting the IF battle alone. So, now, I'm very very glad I did post that. Infertility seems to be such a private thing, almost taboo to talk about openly which is astounding when you look at the stats - it affects so many who must just suffer in silence. Which is horrible.

I may not have completely 'outed' myself but it was enough of a hint for those that recognise the signs to get in touch. And for that I am incredibly grateful, to know just one person knows they're no longer alone makes it worth posting. Even for the couple of negative comments I got I still don't care as the good has so completely outweighed the bad.

And whilst that may be out in the open there are still only a very select few who know about this blog and related twitter account, so I can still vent true feelings within the safety net of anonymity! Almost the best of both worlds. And I think that's how I'd like it to stay. As much as I know it may sound hypocritical after what I've just said about it being a taboo subject, but nevertheless I do think it's one thing alluding to it - it's another entirely to go into the level of detail I do here. Unless you're on this side of the fence you will never ever truly understand what it feels like to be an infertile. So, for now, let's just keep the details between us eh? :) 

I thought you were one of us, I was wrong......

Morning.

Yesterday wasn't much fun. Three pregnancy announcements on my FB feed before midday. Three. Do they all time them specially to come out together?! Admittedly one of them my mum had already given me a heads up about but nevertheless it was now in the public domain and being gushed over. The second one was a bit surprising as I thought the couple didn't want children, nevertheless I am obviously pleased for them. The lady in question is not one to overly emote on FB so the post itself was actually made by a third party (I'd be interested to know how she felt about being outed like that!) and there wasn't the usual outpouring of emotional diarrhea. The third one, however, stung slightly.

I've known her for a long time, they got married the year after we did. Over the past couple of years she'd said a few things in passing that rang alarm bells and I'd wondered for a while whether to ask something that would confirm my suspicions. Was she in the same boat that we were? I'd even considered writing a blogpost about her! Going through the things she'd said and asking advice - was I putting 2 and 2 together and getting 5? If the general consensus was that I was actually right, how should I approach the subject with her? All of that is slightly moot now.

To be fair, I may have got close to the truth. They could well have struggled over the past couple of years, they may well have had tests, started treatment. They could be one of many who fall naturally during the treatment/assessment process due to one of life's delicious ironies. They may have conceived through treatment. I don't know. I will now have no way of knowing, the window has passed. She is pregnant.

So yes, this third FB announcement stung slightly. I thought she was one of us, had for so long thought about saying something to her, letting her know she wasn't alone during this horrific process. But I never found the right time, wasn't sure enough in my deductions that she was indeed in this club. And now I doubt I'll ever know...... Do you bring this kind of conversation up post-pregnancy announcement?! Or is that in poor taste?

Answers on a postcard!

A little 'off topic' - Secondary Infertility

I recently came across this blog post –

http://www.blogher.com/when-are-you-going-have-another-baby

It’s about secondary infertility but there are a lot of similarities to ‘general’ infertility and in some ways I guess it’s worse – you have a child yes, but that only proves you’ve conceived once so you assume you’ll be able to conceive again. And then you don’t.

It also proves what we as a group of infertiles already know – don’t ever, ever EVER judge a book by its cover. You have no idea what is going on behind closed doors. I have lost count of the number of times we have been asked over the years ‘so, when are you going to have children then?’.  This number increases tenfold with every year of marriage that goes by. Obviously we could be completely open and tell everyone the truth (pah!) or we have the various lines of defence we’ve always gone with (‘plenty of time for that’ ‘yeah, one day’) and I’m sure others can quite simply get away with saying they don’t want children if only to shut up the person asking the question.

But how much harder is that if you already have one child? How many times do you get asked when the next one is coming along? How many times does the child you already have innocently wish out loud for a sibling? Again, there are no doubt many that will claim they only wanted one child whilst secretly dying inside. You’ve managed to conceive once, who knew that that’s when infertility would kick in and you wouldn’t be able to conceive a second time?

I genuinely don’t know which is worse.

Holiday hangovers......

Well hello there folks. Apologies that I've been quiet of late, May to October is my insanely busy time at work, as rubbish an excuse as that is I'm afraid it's that simple. I've just been very very busy and, if I'm honest, I've lacked not only the time to post but the energy.

If you've read my last post back in May (May??!) you'll know we're at a bit of a crossroads. If you haven't read it you can find it here. Since that rather confessional blog I've been wondering if there is actually anything further to share on here. Nevertheless blogs have been brewing in my head and I still feel that I have things I want to write about, whether that's our struggles or other things that go through my mind that I'm not sure I could share anywhere other than this very safe environment that I know not many people (in the grand scheme of things! No offence dear reader) read.

And what has been going through my mind of late? Where are we in the world? We're going on holiday next week which is something I'm very much looking forward to, off to NYC which is one of my favourite places in the world outside of the UK. That itself however comes with a hangover to where we are with 'things'. We still aren't having sex, it's almost like we're now just so scared of doing it we're avoiding it altogether. Since I last posted hubby has started a new job, completed a vast training schedule and is now all fully-fledged and into his probationary period. It involves shift work which means we aren't necessarily in bed at the same time (not that a bed is always needed, I know this, but let's start more practical and work up from there shall we?!) and has been knackered for most of the summer as he gets used to the shift pattern and a job which is much harder than anything he's done previously. He is however very very much enjoying it which is completely the main thing!

So. We both have new jobs now. We've moved house. Yet still that one thing that our infertility journey broke between us has not been fixed. Which takes me back to our holiday. We also went away in April; all inclusive, five star, sunshine, cocktails, pool, relaxing. That'll sort things surely! - we thought. We were wrong. So, to our holiday next week. Let's just have a really good time and see what happens - we both say to each other. We'll see. As that in itself creates its own pressures. There is a part of me that is so sure we just need to do it once, just once, and no matter how awkward or unproductive that first time is we know we've got over the biggest hurdle. The first brick is the hardest. As it were!




Wow. I genuinely didn't mean for my first blogpost in almost five months to be about our sex life! (or lack of it) but I guess it's an important part of this journey. And where else am I going to get all of these thoughts out of my head and straightened out?! Thank you, dear reader, for being my sounding board. For being the non-judgmental ear that I can share this all with. Where would I be without you eh?! Best not go there really......

Back soon :)

The Honest Conversation - What Doesn't Break You Makes You Stronger

Aloha.

So, the conversation with hubby finally happened last night. The one I've been thinking about but too scared to actually say the words out loud. Do we really want to carry on down this road?

Yes, we want children. We have never made a secret of that and we still do. But at what price? No, we haven't had miscarriage after miscarriage or many failed IVF treatments. Nevertheless though this process has taken it's toll on me and on us. Something I've not mentioned on here before is that in 2013 I had a mental breakdown. I was signed off work for almost four months and didn't fully recover until mid 2014. Part of this was down to where I was working at the time but part of it was down to all of the infertility tests and hospital visits that we were going through at the time - in secret. That was an enormous burden to bear.

I know there are those of you that are reading this that have had a far more arduous journey than we have, but everyone has their breaking point. Please don't judge me if mine is nowhere near yours. We are incredibly happy, we are so in love. But our sex life has suffered. And that's a kinda important thing to be healthy if you're trying to conceive.....

We love our life, so would it really be so bad if it just ended up being the two of us? Last night we all but ruled out IVF. Part of me feels like I should try one cycle just to say we tried it but, as much as my mum has offered to pay for it, I am genuinely not sure I could go through with it. I did not cope well with the infertility tests. How would I cope with even more invasive treatments for a baby that I am now not so sure that I want? Which is an absurd thing to say. And incredibly scary to actually put in writing. For the past three years I have wanted nothing more than children. But has the window now closed? Has the opportunity passed us by? Have we now reached the point when we tried, it didn't work, and so we graciously accept defeat? Which doesn't mean, by the way, that (whenever we do start having sex again....) we're going to start using contraception. Ha! Hell no. But we need to repair the part of our relationship that infertility has broken before we can contemplate anything further.

Adoption is something we are both incredibly open to, but not until quite a bit further into the future I think. We'd still very much like to give conceiving naturally a proper go first, and if I'm honest we haven't really done that. If we can get our sex life back to where it was before we started trying to have children then maybe we do stand half a chance. But that has to be our priority first, we have been stripped of the joy of making love. It is now seen as a chore, neither of us enjoy it. Neither of us actually want to do it, the memories of before are still too raw. Too painful. It's a means to an end which we never got to, rather than something we enjoy.

The only upside to all of this is that our relationship is so much stronger. Whilst I was signed off from work hubby was my rock, he was an absolute star and I know for a fact that I would not have come out the otherside without him. I saw a counsellor who was also hugely talented and really helpful, but it was hubby who dealt with the day-to-day breakdowns. The complications, the outbursts and the irrational emotions that just consumed me. He held me, stood by me and didn't try to understand. He was just there.

I don't want to go through that again, I don't want to put him through that again. Nevertheless our marriage has proven itself to be rock solid and for that I am eternally grateful. I was so nervous about having that conversation with him, he has always been so much more vocal than me about wanting children. He frequently mentions that it's about time he got me pregnant - but interestingly that was all words. The actions required to get me pregnant never followed. And so I was incredibly relieved when I discovered we were both on the same page.

And so the black cloud has been lifted, the weight that I've been carrying on my shoulders for these past few weeks has evaporated. We know where we stand. We know what we want. Let's try and fix what has been so badly broken, and then see where we go from there.