And it’s all in my head

And it’s all in my head

image

So she turned up yesterday. 26 fucking days. In my 15 beautiful menstruating years, I have never experienced a 26 day cycle, but for some reason for the last 2 months; she’s decided to show up after 26 days. Bitch. 

So now I have no idea when I’m ovulating. I never know what length of cycle my body will decide to have, and if I’m perfectly honest, checking my cervix grosses me out.  

I don’t want to go down the route of official ovulation testing for 2 reasons: 

1) They aren’t 100% and I worry I won’t use them right, or I’ll miss the surge, or I’ll get a dodgy pack. Whatever. Too many variables. 

2) I’m trying not to put loads of pressure on myself, and I feel by testing it’s taking the fun out of everything and adding extra stress to the situation.  

But what else is left? 

It’s been 16 months of constant trying and I’m starting to lose hope. The doctors say nothing’s wrong but this can’t be normal. It can’t be this hard. 

I don’t know if I can deal with feeling like this every single month. Crying, and feeling like a failure. And if one day, I do get pregnant.. can I handle another loss? 

Ugh, guess it’s one of those days. Again. 

Advertisements
Symptom tracking/imagining

Symptom tracking/imagining

image

It’s the last stretch of my TWW and so far I’ve had sensitive, tingly nipples, the veins on my breasts look more prominent, I’ve been tired, I’ve been getting up at night to pee, I haven’t had any of my normal PMS symptoms and it’s felt kind of ‘different’ during fun times with the husband.  

So my hopes are well and truly up this month. All the way up. 

In reality, these symptoms are probably all in my head and the little red devil will turn up bang on time this week. Judging by my past luck, this is the most likely outcome. I also HATE that I’m even thinking I might be pregnant. Hate that I’m allowing myself to get excited. Hate this whole thing. 

The FWW

The FWW

image

I’ve just arrived at my ‘TWW’ (two week wait) and I’m reminded about how much I bloody hate it. 

Women who are actively trying for a baby know how frustrating the TWW can be.. it just seems to go on and on…and on and on.. and on. 

But – and I’m sure I’m not alone in this – its nothing compared to the FWW (four week wait). I’ve realised that the minute I get those cramps, or when I pee and there’s a hint of red on the paper; when my period annoyingly arrives – I’ve began my countdown. 

Ok, so I’m still not pregnant… now what? 

Countdown to Aunt Flo’ pissing off, taking with her the constant reminder of the fact I’m not pregnant. 

Countdown to ovulation week which everyone tells us is supposed to be the fun part (listen, of course I have fun during the stuff,  but there’s still all this underlying pressure about if we’re doing it at the right time and if we’re doing it enough, and if we should be doing it upside down or back to front or inside out – wait, I’ve went off course I think). 

Countdown to the week your period is due. Trying to read signs. Am I cramping? Am I emotional? How’s my skin looking? Am I craving chocolate  (Hell, I’m ALWAYS craving chocolate) 

My period should be here now. I’m late. Good. Or is it? I’m not always regular. I’m getting my hopes up. I’m now 2 days late. Am I pregnant? 3 days late. Nope. Is that a spot? Crap, I’m cramping. I’m spotting. Great, here she bloody is!!! (excuse the pun) 

And, again.. The countdown starts. 

Repost – 12 weeks

Repost – 12 weeks

I still have such vivid memories of the day that it terrifies me. Sometimes it’s all my mind will allow me to think about. The thoughts crop up every so often, and they’re almost always without warning. I could be watching the television, reading a book or even relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath then suddenly there it is – right at the forefront of my mind. It can feel like I’m watching a film, only I can’t stop it, can’t pause it and can never ever find the eject button.

Read more

365 days later

365 days later

Exactly one year ago today, I was on honeymoon in Cuba lying in a strange medical centre having a miscarriage. 

Today, I’m in work – not with a child – but with yet another miscarriage behind me. 

I still sometimes can’t believe it’s been a whole year. A year and not a single day has passed where I haven’t thought about it, if even briefly. 

They say time’s a healer right? Well I say that’s bullshit. 365 days later and I still hurt. 

 

 

Pandoras Box

Pandoras Box

image

There’s a box in my living room that I refer to as my ‘Pandora’s Box’.  

It’s actually a vintage suitcase that we had our guests drop their cards in to at the wedding. 

We still have it on display in our living room, only now it serves as a holder for said cards, the guestbook, my garter, a copy of the invitations, our vows, my hairband/tiara thing and some other little memories. 

As a wedding gift, I bought my husband a pocket watch he’d been eyeing up in the kilt shop and had it engraved for him. I also got a little notepad as a private gift between us that contains; well, notes. That’s kind of a given. 

I wrote things like ’10 reasons why I love you’, Where I see us in 10 years’, ‘My favourite memory together’ and other equally as cute and sickeningly romantic notes. 

This tiny seemingly innocent 4″ x 4″ notepad is the sole reason why I don’t look in the box anymore. That was, until today. 

I had to put something inside it today and I just couldn’t stop myself from looking at the notepad. I knew what I was getting myself in to. I mean, I really knew. But still – I read it. I started to cry. I tried in vain to stop, but the tears kept coming.  

There were notes about how my husband was such a good father and how he was going to be a brilliant one again to our little one. Notes about how we had everything we ever wanted, and life was pretty much perfect. We used to call the baby lentil (I know I’m not the only one that does this), so there was a mention of how I love that he would do anything for me, Kian and lentil.  Just seeing that word broke my heart. I broke down again. 

Next week will be 1 year since we lost our little one and I truthfully can’t ever see myself being completely okay. I’ll always have the ‘should’ve been’ dates in my mind. I’ll always wonder why it had to happen to us. We miss you so much Lentil. Why did you have to leave us?