Friday, 2 December 2011


How many times can I write reasonable, seemingly balanced blog posts when inside I am screaming about how unfair things seem to be? 

<Here is the one reasonable element in this post. I know that some bloggers in the IF sphere are having a genuine shit time - losses and bed rest and etc. In contrast I am feeling sorry for myself. On my own blog. If you don't like it, don't read it.>

Good: I have a good job I mostly enjoy. My husband and I are happy, for the most part.

Not so good: I'm not actually in the career I want to be in, but changing isn't as easy as writing up my CV. And I can't have a baby.

Many other people can have babies, including most of the people on my current blog roll. Of people who can't have babies. Like me.

Fertily challenged?

Well, the great news is, if you're going through a cycle right now, and you're on my blog list... congratulations, you will almost certainly get pregnant this time around. Never mind that you've been through IVF and it failed, you'll just get pregnant the old fashioned way. Yay! Good for you! Also, if you're really lucky, you'll be having twins. Woohoo!

Bitter? You f*cking bet. Want to hear some more?

It's been a bad week for 'announcements' In fact, one guy I know posted about his wife's pregnancy in three languages in his FB update. In case you missed it in English, it is in Spanish. And Korean for good measure.

Here's my Spanish: Estoy embarazado, pero estoy sangrado. Tengo miedo. <If you don't speak Spanish, google translate works just fine>

Sometimes I think things that I hate. I think them before I can stop myself. Jealousy sucks; thank goodness I'm not Catholic. Because of the guilt. But sometimes I pray. I am selfish and I pray not for other people, but for myself. And yet I cannot promise anything to a God I only partly believe in. I can't promise 'I will never ask for anything else' because what if my child, or my husband, or my parents are ill in the future? (Or myself for that matter.) I would ask again.

Along with prayer is the power of The S.ecret. If you focus on one thing enough it will come to you. Ask and it shall be given unto you. And etc. I ask for a baby. I think 'baby baby baby.' Then I get a twinge in my scar site (as often happens through my cycle) and I think 'ectopic.' According to the power of The S.ecret, the universe doesn't recognise the concept of negatives: 'I don't want an ectopic,' is not recognised as such. It will only hear 'ectopic' and bring me one.

I saw a colleague rubbing her bump today and I wanted to scream. Instead I put on a happy face and went and taught other people's children.

When do I get to break down and scream and cry for more than an hour? After all of my BFNs this year I have pulled it together and gone to work, even though I know that my boss would understand if I called in sick. Why won't I let myself wallow? Because I know it could always be worse?

You know what? F*ck that. I've lost 6 potential children. 5 embryos and 1 poor thing who settled in in the wrong place. I didn't know if any of them were boys or girls or what kind of person they might have become. When I let myself get invested I get my heart broken.

I still blame myself. I blame myself for being a stupid idiotic twenty-four-year-old who never believed that anything like that could happen to her. And because of this I don't let myself feel bad. I force myself to accept the situation as punishment for being a stupid, drunk idiot who then continued to be a stupid fool who was too scared to go get checked up.

By the time you've finished reading this, you'll probably be pregnant.