All My Peccadilloes…

Firstly, it is almost 2am so I make no claims about how legible this post will be.

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Laying in bed a few minutes ago, with a million thoughts running through my head, I came to a realisation.

I am like no other woman I know. I have very little concept of what it is like, in the first month trying for a baby, to expect to get pregnant. I imagine that it might be something like how I felt during the TWW of the IUI… hopeful.

We never went through the months of trying unsuccessfully. We arrived in the land of IF by a detour… the detour of knowledge.

These thoughts nestled their way into my overactive consciousness after the tears had stopped.

My best friend is 9 weeks pregnant.

For the first time, I didn’t have the ‘burning ice rising in the pit of my stomach’ feeling that ordinarily arises when I hear somebodies ‘good news’. She was very thoughtful in her announcement. It wasn’t at dinner, it was in person, cleverly timed for when I had the ability to focus my attention on something other than her, and when I could disguise my shaking hands. I could actually feel pleasure for her.

I am happy for them. They’ve been married four years, and have waited for ‘the right time’ long enough to know that it will never happen. They had been trying for two months before she got her miracle.

But I still feel incredible sadness, for us.

The grief comes out in funny ways. I’ve lost the relationship that I had with this friend. I would never, EVER, wish this journey on anyone, but there is still a certain camaraderie between the infertile and the childless. I don’t know about other infertiles, but I know that I am knowledgeable about pregnancy. I’ve memorised just about everything I’ve ever read. And given my recent coping strategy of attempted desensitisation, via the reading of everything you could ever possibly want to know about pregnancy and then some, that’s a lot.

The only person I have outside of the computer screen, who is going through this, is Mr G. Part of my reasoning behind my openness about all of this, is that I desperately want someone to say to me… I understand, I’m dealing with it too.

I have to believe that through this, we will become better people. Maybe its a path to enlightenment… Who knows, it’s 2:30 in the morning, anything is possible in these small hours.

I read on this on Rach’s Blog a few weeks ago, and I have been unable to get it out of my head.

The Oak Tree

• A mighty wind blew night and day It stole the oak tree’s leaves away
  Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark
  Until the oak was tired and stark

  But still the oak tree held its ground
  While other trees fell all around
  The weary wind gave up and spoke.
  How can you still be standing Oak?

  The oak tree said, I know that you
  Can break each branch of mine in two
  Carry every leaf away
  Shake my limbs, and make me sway

  But I have roots stretched in the earth
  Growing stronger since my birth
  You’ll never touch them, for you see
  They are the deepest part of me

  Until today, I wasn’t sure
  Of just how much I could endure
  But now I’ve found, with thanks to you
  I’m stronger than I ever knew

It says everything I can’t.

So, my dear friend.

I am sorry I couldn’t give you the best parts of me tonight. I am sorry that it became too much to bear, and that I had to hurry you out the door. I am simultaneously joyous and heartbroken that you are taking this step in your life. I am trying hard to become the person I want to be. I wish you nothing but happiness.