This time two years ago I was putting last minute touches to my wedding plans. I wasn’t pregnant and didn’t know the pain of recurrent miscarriage. I had no idea that I was about to spend the next two years trying for a baby only to lose it every time. I had no idea I would have a frequent flyer card at my local hospital, no idea that I would spend hours researching acupuncture and tips on how to get pregnant (and stay that way). In fact, “full term pregnancy” wasn’t even in my vocabulary – it was just pregnancy. A simple straightforward word. It stood alone. The only thing that followed ‘pregnancy’ was ‘baby’.
I sometimes imagine myself in 5, 10 years – in a detached house with 2 or 3 kids (including Kian), we’re financially secure and of course ecstatically happy and then I realise I have to stop myself. I have no idea what the future holds for me – that’s more obvious to me now than it’s ever been.
I need to stop imagining and fantasizing. I need to live my life. I need to forget about my past, I need to stop picturing my future and I really need to try enjoy just living in my present.
“Try” – optimal word.