flicker

Last weekend was quite the challenge with Significant Other in his lowest mood to date. It was a glorious couple of days weatherwise, so last Saturday I went out elephant-spotting again. But a couple of hours into it, Significant Other called me home because he had had an anxiety attack. And when I got home all we did was argue (apparently I drive him bonkers, what with one thing and another).

Sunday was a little better as we drove over to my parents' and baked in their lovely garden and ate delicious mother-cooked food.

And then on Monday there was this little, tiny, blink-and-you-would-have-missed-it mood change. I held my breath...

We had our 6th therapy appointment on Wednesday during which Significant Other said that he was beginning to feel a little less despairing about the future and a little bit more able to look forward to things. After the appointment we walked for a bit, went and had a drink in a pub, walked a bit more, stopped to have dinner, walked a bit more and then got the bus home. All the while, I held my breath and hoped I did or said nothing which would bring the mood down.

Since then things have been getting a teeny, tiny bit lighter each day.

I know that the landscape of depression is marked with peaks and troughs, and that Significant Other still has some way to go, and that moods can turn on a sixpence.

But right now I am taking as much care as I can of that little candle-flicker of hope.

just

We've all heard that word, haven't we?
"Why don't you just adopt?"
"You just need to relax"
"Just give it time"

Mine came from a friend on Thursday (pause here while I give due credit to her very good intentions and acknowledge that she spoke with love):
"I think it's time you just accepted this."

Yes, I have to accept I am never going to be a mother or grandmother or mother-in-law.
That Significant Other is never going to be a father to our child.
That my parents will never be grandparents.
That the books and toys I have saved from my own childhood to pass down will go to other people's children.
That I will never get a Mother's Day card.
That whatever is in Significant Other's future, I have made his present almost unbearable.

Yes, I know I have to accept all of this. But it is hard and sad and unfair.

And it is never going to be just.

for my next trick...

I turned myself invisible today. Not once but three times! Don't believe me? Let me tell you how I did it.

1) I was getting on the bus to work this morning and had my Oyster card almost at the reader when the man behind me reached around and put his card on instead. When I said "erm, excuse me?!" he looked me up and down and said "sorry, love, didn't see you there." Hmm.

2) Standing in the queue to pay at the salad bar this lunchtime a woman cut right in front of me. Again I cleared my throat and again I was told that she "didn't see me there". Hmm, hmm.

3) This last one was my crowning glory. I was in a meeting with three others (all male) in our department meeting room (tiny) when Dr Insufferable said "...and Illanare can do the tutorial on...has anyone seen her, by the way?" Hmm, hmm, hmm.

Now I am a small woman but the first two times I was wearing a cobalt-blue jacket and the last time? I was sitting next to him.

dreaming

I haven't been sleeping too well recently - not falling asleep until about 1.00am and waking up around 4.30 each day. Mostly I have been having bad dreams and nightmares and I wake up with my emotions in turmoil. But I realise pretty soon that I'm in my own bed, my darling little cat is safe curled next to me, Significant Other is still snoring beside me and I calm down.

Last night I dreamt about Bean. She was barely a month old, we had called her Meg and we were showing her off to my cousin.

That was five hours ago and my emotions are still in turmoil and I have yet to calm down.

then and now

Then was May 1997. Everyone I knew was a Labour supporter. My flatmate and I stayed up until 3.00am watching the election results roll in, and we even went as far as recording the segment for our constituency, and watched the tape over and over again. We were all so hopeful and naively believed that it was the dawning of a new golden age...

Now is May 2010 and the Tories are back in.

Frack.

moved

I bit the bullet and asked the wonderful Mel to move my blog from the "general infertility" room to the "child-free living" section of her amazing blogroll.

It may not sound like much, but it was.

The next step will be to give away the pregnancy books and the maternity clothes from my first two pregnancies. That is going to have to wait a while though. I want them out of the house, but I'm not strong enough yet to retrieve them from where we hid them after Bean died.

I guess it's really true. I'm never having children.

girl power

Today was my friend's birthday and she, another friend and I painted the town, if not quite red, then certainly a pale pink.

We met for coffee and cake at The Crypt cafe. Then we set out into the drizzle to do a bit of elephant-spotting. This was followed by cocktails at the ridiculously opulent Gilg@mesh bar. Then we wandered around C@mden Lock Market, sampling pastries and trying on hats. This worked up an appetite for tapas and a final cocktail.

Inbetween all the shopping and imbibing, we talked and laughed and shed 20 years. I got home tonight more cheerful than I have been all year.

Whatever your age, sometimes there really is nothing like a day out with the girls.

green-eyed monster

Two months ago, a friend of mine had a baby boy, at the age of 43.
She hadn't been trying to get pregnant, as she had only been dating her boyfriend for 3 months.
She announced today on In Your F@cebook that she has just got engaged.

My brown eyes turned green in a heartbeat and the envy was so tangible that it took me a full four hours to clear a space through it to send her a congratulatory email.

It is not her fault that she is fertile, it is not her fault that she is loved by her partner.

Her happiness takes nothing away from me.

Have IF and loss changed me so much that I am made miserable by a friend's joy?

Will the old "me" ever come back?

damn bird

That bastard single magpie was back again today, mocking me from the tree outside my living room. I wonder if looking at it twice could possibly count as "two for joy"?

If you have time, please go over and offer B some support. She is marking the missed due date of her little Snowflake.

on the couch

So Significant Other and I have had two appointments with the counsellor at Rel@te. She's a very nice woman and I think that we will - that we are - getting on with her.

I have been pleasantly amazed by Significant Other's willingness to talk at these appointments, in fact the first one was 90% focussed on him. At the end of the first session he said that he "felt a bit better" but at last week's appointment he said that he had been feeling even more down...

I don't know if I am doing the right thing, dear Interwebs, by making us do this. I want to do everything I can to save our relationship but I don't want to make Significant Other even more unhappy than he is already.

This is all so hard. And I'm very tired.