Some people, when they read this, may feel offended or upset. I hope that they understand that is not my intention. That I have agonised for weeks over whether to write this blog, but in the end it comes down to a simple fact. The only way to effectively prevent my emotions from pulling me back into The Pit, is to express them. And since people, for the most part, are not comfortable talking to me about this stuff, the only effective way I have of expressing them, is through my blog.
And so I will begin.
I am feeling left behind. My friends' rainbows are reaching a year old now, one by one that milestone is passing for those new little families, and I am still here, still trying so desperately for my own rainbow. When I wrote two years ago about them all conceiving one by one and how I struggled with it not being me, when I wrote about those babies being born one by one, and I was still trying...did I imagine I would still be in the same place, as those babies became toddlers? Yes, in my nightmares I did, I feared it...but I hoped, prayed, and begged that it wouldn't happen this way. It has. Whilst I am still trudging up and down the snakes and ladders board, they are no longer standing on the finish square, cheering me on. They have moved on to a new game of mums and tots. I can't blame them, but it hurts to feel so left behind, forgotten, given up on.
People have stopped telling me it will be my turn soon. They seem to have accepted that it won't be. Now I am asked, "will you adopt?" I am told, "well, it's going to keep happening isn't it" when I mention feeling sad and jealous that someone I know has fallen pregnant without even trying, again. Yes, the unspoken thought they appear to have- it is going to keep happening.... so just get over it.
People tell me "you need to let go now" Let go of what, exactly? The anger? the hurt? My son? How do I break an unbreakable bond? I miss him, it's agony. I'm desperate to be a mummy again, it's agony. I'm going to be an aunty...it's agony.
I'm sorry, but it is. I wish so much it could be different. It's a knife wound in my broken heart. Its a mockery of my broken body. It's a boy. It's agony. I have to watch them live my dream. They've been granted the life I was cheated of, handed it on a plate. The life I've been praying for. I feel cheated of the relationship I should have with my nephew. I should be so excited. I should be handing down the things Bertie has finished with...instead I will have to hold back tears as he does all the things Bertie will never do. I begged it would be me first. No. I begged it would take a few months at least. No. I begged it would be a girl.....NO!
Now I am begging for it to be my turn before he is born. Guess what I think the answer will be?
A week on Friday I go for my operation. I am excited and terrified in equal measure. I am excited that maybe this will be the golden ticket I have been waiting for. Maybe this will work! Maybe I will be able to conceive soon after! On the other hand, maybe there will be another problem, maybe they will find something else wrong...maybe it won't work. I am trying to stay positive, but after so many "no" answers....could you?