This post has been on the go, in draft for a while now. Each month I think I’ve found a new way to deal with the dreaded Two Week Wait (TWW) but the reality is I haven’t, so I’ve put this off for another month to see if I find that miracle distraction. Now I’ve reached the two year mark of trying for another baby, it seemed as good a time as any to put this out there. For any woman trying to get pregnant dealing with the TWW royally sucks. You’re looking out for the tiniest of symptoms that may or not mean pregnancy, but those symptoms are rather cruelly the same as getting your period. Lovely, no? Personally I find that the first week is fairly easy and passes without too much thought, but week two, ooh that’s the struggle. Those negative thoughts start to creep in and I often find myself lying awake at night running through various scenarios. I sway from completely normal to teetering on the precipice of doom the next. And it’s around this time that I catch myself staring at women with pregnant bumps, feeling that empty space in my heart. It’s an altogether rather horrible cycle to be in.
I’ve been struggling a bit recently, really struggling and it’s two particular things that have been making me feel like this. I last wrote about not being pregnant back in February, and I’ve kept quiet since then because you try to focus and look forward as much as possible, don’t you. However another month has nearly gone by and I have to say that in the last few days, for some reason, I have been finding things hard. I’ve been feeling like this groundhog day cycle is never going to end. And alongside this, the kid has been pushing me as hard as she can. She has reached a new phase in her little life and I am finding that she swings from, ‘super happy’ to ‘angry moaning minnie’ constantly, and that’s actually quite tough when it’s all day, every day. Things seem to have come to a head and I’ve been feeling a bit like I’ve been wearing Eeyore’s sad face, complete with my own little grey cloud.
Hello there! I’ve been a bit absent of late, sorry about that. March and April turned into eternal sickness for both me and Olivia, and with that I found myself feeling rather down with zero energy, and no will or want to sit down and write anything other than a shopping list. But, after a short break to Cornwall, albeit not entirely relaxing (looks sideways at the kid), I’ve found some mojo again and I want to talk about my body (in a non-sexeh, R-Kelly singing way, okay) My body has changed a lot over the past few years, especially after having a baby but exactly a year and a half after having her, I found my ideal weight, it felt good and my monthly cycle was back on track. Things felt like they had gotten back to normal.
Today is the start of yet another month where ‘things’ haven’t worked. And by ‘things’ I mean, I’m not pregnant. I realise this post could be construed as slight over-sharing, but I wrote a post in December about having a miscarriage so it’s no real secret that my husband and I would like another baby. Also that’s the point of this blog, for me to put down how I am feeling, ‘Dear Diary’ style. The whole journey of trying to get pregnant is so up and down (no pun intended there) Some women get pregnant at the mere sight of their partners bits, for some it takes time and some have to go down the IVF route. We seem to be falling into the ‘it’s taking time’ category and quite frankly, it’s driving me nuts. I’m several packets down on Folic Acid, far more than I ever expected to have to take.
Oh, Christmas. Christmas was a bit of a funny one this year, unfortunately not the funny ‘ha ha’ kind. I’ll start by making brief apologies as this isn’t the cheeriest post to kick off with after festivities, but hey, that can’t be helped, your body doesn’t care about what day of the year it is. I’ve thought long and hard about putting this post out as it’s so personal, but I feel that it needs to be done, mostly for myself but also for any women out there who have experienced the same. Let me get to the point, a few weeks ago I was pregnant and now, well now I’m not. They say that writing can be cathartic, I’m hoping that’s the case for me.