So after all my good intentions and promises and mantras I have woken up this morning and feel like all of the positivity has been sucked out of me.
Maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's hormones, maybe it's just the phase of the moon. Who knows. I just feel that we will not have done it this cycle and I am just tired of trying to conceive again. This is just not how life should be. This is not how I want my life to be.
This post made me think today. Lately I have been feeling very, very jealous of my friend and her new baby. It's not a good emotion. I feel bitter that it's been so hard for us and so easy for her. We struggle for 2 years and lose three babies. She has aborted 2 previous 'unplanned' pregnancies, decides on a whim (in the middle of an argument with her boyfriend) to have a baby and is pregnant within 2 months, a year later she has a new baby, a new home (paid for by his parents). Everything I wanted and thought I would have. She text me the other day to ask how I was. She asked my opinion on something her baby was doing. But like Ashley said, what advice can I offer? I have never had a baby to bring up. I can't give her advice because I have no idea.
How do I move past this terrible negativity I have towards her? I just can't get past the unfairness of it all. Why has it been so easy for her? Why has it been so hard for us? How can I stop this horrible envy that is eating away at our friendship? I can barely bring myself to speak to her. She doesn't have the right words to say. She never even bothered to come to Lucy's funeral. She complains constantly about her baby not sleeping. When I told her how down I was feeling about TTC she texted to say "I know, I felt like that. I know how long the months can be and it's literally all you can think about". What?!? WTF?!? How can she even pretend to know what it's like? She decided at Christmas she wanted a baby and was pregnant by the February! Why does she not understand that her situation and my situation are worlds apart?
God I sound like a total bitch. I hate feeling this way towards her. But I hate that she just doesn't GET it. I'm not sure our friendship can recover from this. I am a terrible friend. I can't even feel happy for my friends anymore.
Monday, 8 February 2010
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Inconsistency
I met with the other Mamas this weekend. It was really good. I travelled down on the train with one lady and we chattered all the way to London. It was so nice to be able to talk openly with someone without having to apologise for getting upset, or with the other person steering the conversation away from dead babies.
We shared tears. We shared fears. I tried to soothe hers as she is pregnant again and frightened. We talked about how you are unable now to tell other pregnant ladies "It'll be alright". No matter how bad I feel I just cannot bring myself to, in effect, lie to them. How can I know it'll be alright? Yes it's the right and polite thing to say, but I'm sorry I have statistically had 3 'not alright' pregnancies so I feel like a fraud if I smile sweetly and paint a beautiful, rose coloured picture of being pregnant. Pregnancy to me now seems like you are holding your future baby in your arms and bungee jumping off the Severn bridge with only an elastic band to hold you up. There's a million chances you will hit the ground with a sickening thud or there is a remote chance you'll bounce and get that happy ending.
We met with the other Mamas in the hotel. After a little awkwardness we were soon chatting away, each eager to make the most of this opportunity to talk about our lost little ones. Every story different but with the same sad ending. And what seemed to crop up a lot, a LOT was the sheer inconsistency of advice given by the medical profession. You would think that it might help if they were all singing off the same hymn sheet. Instead it seems to be a postcode lottery, even a generation lottery - some of the older Consultants seem to be very much of the 'suck it and see' approach whereas the recent graduates of med school are following the textbook to the letter - god help you if your pregnancy deviates from that textbook.
Bit of a joke.
I am thinking of packing the nursery away. I left it all out after losing Lucy as I was sure I would be pregnant again quickly. As time ticks on with no positive test it seems a sadder place to me. I think I may just pack it all away for another time, whenever that may be. The empty cot makes me feel sad, the whole room does.
I feel I am running out of things to say about Lucy. I have talked about her endlessly but I will only ever have those nine months and those few precious hours to talk about. I was so surprised she was warm when she came out. I guess I imagined she would be dead and therefore cold. It was strange how warm and pink she was. Her skin was very soft, I stroked her cheek and nose endlessly. I wish I had opened her eyelids to see hers eyes, I never did it because it just didn't seem right to disturb her somehow but I wonder what they looked like. She had very, very long legs. And huge feet! Just like her Dad. She would have had his sticky out ears too. I remember thinking how she would have grown her hair to cover them, and then I cried because her hair would never grow and she would never be teased at school about her ears because she would never go to school. She wasn't meant for this earth.
I once read that babies that pass are Old Souls that have been here many times before. They have learnt all their life lessons and will now get to join God in Heaven as an Angel, but the last lesson they have to pass onto their chosen earth Mother. I guess this comforts me a little as I can't fathom the point of a little life sent here and taken before her beautiful eyes had even a chance to see the light of the Sun.
We shared tears. We shared fears. I tried to soothe hers as she is pregnant again and frightened. We talked about how you are unable now to tell other pregnant ladies "It'll be alright". No matter how bad I feel I just cannot bring myself to, in effect, lie to them. How can I know it'll be alright? Yes it's the right and polite thing to say, but I'm sorry I have statistically had 3 'not alright' pregnancies so I feel like a fraud if I smile sweetly and paint a beautiful, rose coloured picture of being pregnant. Pregnancy to me now seems like you are holding your future baby in your arms and bungee jumping off the Severn bridge with only an elastic band to hold you up. There's a million chances you will hit the ground with a sickening thud or there is a remote chance you'll bounce and get that happy ending.
We met with the other Mamas in the hotel. After a little awkwardness we were soon chatting away, each eager to make the most of this opportunity to talk about our lost little ones. Every story different but with the same sad ending. And what seemed to crop up a lot, a LOT was the sheer inconsistency of advice given by the medical profession. You would think that it might help if they were all singing off the same hymn sheet. Instead it seems to be a postcode lottery, even a generation lottery - some of the older Consultants seem to be very much of the 'suck it and see' approach whereas the recent graduates of med school are following the textbook to the letter - god help you if your pregnancy deviates from that textbook.
Bit of a joke.
I am thinking of packing the nursery away. I left it all out after losing Lucy as I was sure I would be pregnant again quickly. As time ticks on with no positive test it seems a sadder place to me. I think I may just pack it all away for another time, whenever that may be. The empty cot makes me feel sad, the whole room does.
I feel I am running out of things to say about Lucy. I have talked about her endlessly but I will only ever have those nine months and those few precious hours to talk about. I was so surprised she was warm when she came out. I guess I imagined she would be dead and therefore cold. It was strange how warm and pink she was. Her skin was very soft, I stroked her cheek and nose endlessly. I wish I had opened her eyelids to see hers eyes, I never did it because it just didn't seem right to disturb her somehow but I wonder what they looked like. She had very, very long legs. And huge feet! Just like her Dad. She would have had his sticky out ears too. I remember thinking how she would have grown her hair to cover them, and then I cried because her hair would never grow and she would never be teased at school about her ears because she would never go to school. She wasn't meant for this earth.
I once read that babies that pass are Old Souls that have been here many times before. They have learnt all their life lessons and will now get to join God in Heaven as an Angel, but the last lesson they have to pass onto their chosen earth Mother. I guess this comforts me a little as I can't fathom the point of a little life sent here and taken before her beautiful eyes had even a chance to see the light of the Sun.
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