Saturday, 17 May 2008

Self-obsessed rant. Wallow, wallow, wallow.

I'm feeling nervous about an occasion I will have soon with two dear friends that I don't see very often. It's a lunch to celebrate both of their birthdays and they will both have their baby boys with them. One baby I have met before and the other one I haven't. I have known both friends since I was 11. The mother of the baby I haven't met before has been living in the USA for the past year so I missed seeing her pregnancy progress which, frankly, was a blessing for me. That may sound like I'm a horrible jealous person. The truth is: I am jealous. This will be the first time I see her since she left for the US having just announced her pregnancy. She told me she couldn't believe how quick it was for her to get pregnant.

This type of thing is so hard. I adore babies, and I love these friends, but I'm frightened that I'm going to sit there thinking 'I don't see MY baby. They have theirs. Where is mine?' and I'm scared that my feelings will show on my face. I'm worried my friends will misinterpret my feelings for lack of joy about their children. I know that they would/will do their best to understand but, through no fault of their own, they couldn't understand. I know I could tell them how I feel but I don't want to. I don't want to be special, different, or pitied...and yet I do sometimes want more acknowledgement for what I'm going through (yes, me me me). The conversation will inevitably turn to the babies and who did what first, and labour, and breastfeeding, and nappies and so on, and why shouldn't it? I desperately don't want my friends to have to behave differently just because I am there too. And yet while they talk about those things I will be staying silent. While they see to the needs of their babies I will sit still and, I fear, notice more than usual that the only children I have are stupidly perfect fantasies, locked in my head.

I know it's important for me to keep positive, and I HATE sounding so self-obsessed when there is so much other suffering about. While I write this self-pitying post I am judging myself for it. I don't like this bitter part of myself. But I can only start from where I am. Often I find that if I give my bubbling rants some airtime, they die down again and leave me alone in peace for a while. I hope it works this time.

So we've had 2 rounds of superovulation/IUI now. That's nothing in the scheme of things - you should read some women's 'biographies' on the various infertility message boards.
We'll probably be offered 2 more, for which I am grateful - we'll find out for sure in a couple of weeks. I am planning to have acupuncture alongside the next treatment(s).

Angel Me: Ommmmmmmmm. I am a healthy fertile woman who gets pregnant easily.
Devil Me: Don't be ridiculous, it's NEVER going to happen for you. You're tying Adriano down to a life of infertility too! How selfish. You've been trying for 3 years for pete's sake!
Angel Me: SHUT UP SHUT UP. I am now becoming healthier and healthier. My women's bits - I mean my reproductive plumbing - is ready to receive a new life.
Devil Me: Ha ha! I've never heard anything so stupid and hippy-dippy in my life. Why on earth would that work? Binge-drinking 14 year olds get pregnant, but not you. Women in their late forties get pregnant, but NOT YOU. Face it, you'll always be the barren woman of any group.
Angel Me: *sob* I just want to be a mum! I've thought about my children since I was one myself!
Devil Me: So what? Some people just can't have children, and you're one of them.

etc.

2 comments:

Lucia said...

PS I feel slightly better now I've written that!

nikoline said...

Starting where you're at (as you so beautifully said in this post) is the truest place, I think. Acknowledging all aspects of ones experiences and related sentiments is freeing. At least, that's what I've found. Rock on, brave, brave woman. :)

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