What if...?

What if Significant Other never forgives me for losing our babies?

He almost left after we lost Starchild, he could barely look at me after we lost Bean, and now - four months after my last (and final) miscarriage - he may be about to leave for sure.

What if he never forgives me for robbing him of the chance to be a father, to leave something behind to carry on his genes and his memory and at least his partial likeness?

Significant Other may decide after all that leaving me is the key to his future. He may meet someone younger / more fertile / both of these things and have a child and be happy. But what if he can never forgive me for the loss of the three children that, in one way or another, my body killed?

What if he can never forgive me for the years of pain and sadness my infertility has caused him?

He was in love with me once, what now seems like a lifetime ago. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I think I see him looking at me with that same love. What if that love is still there somewhere, buried beneath the sand of this island of misery on which we seem to be stranded and we can find it again? What if we can, after all, live a different kind of life?

This post was written as part of the Bloggers Unite: Project IF. Click here for a list of heart-wrenching "what-ifs".
To learn more about infertility go to Resolve.
And this week - 24th April - 1st May is NIAW

crumbling

28th April 2008 we lost Starchild. It was the worst day of our lives, and both Significant Other and I were the saddest we had ever been. A week later, I was still crying a lot and Significant Other, in his own pain, told me that he couldn't face my sadness and was thinking of leaving me.

My tears dried instantly and he never saw me cry again until February 6th 2009 when we lost Bean. Mindful of what had happened less than a year before, I was careful, after that first outburst of pain, not to let him see me sad. Not when I didn't respond as well to the IVF drugs as expected, not when I miscarried for a third time on Christmas Eve, not even when my beloved grandmother died.

In retrospect, I might not have been as wise as I thought.

On Sunday morning, Significant Other woke up and said he was leaving. That he no longer wants to be in this relationship. And he packed his bags.

I crumbled. The held-back tears of two years' unremitting pain started to flow, as did the held-back words. I now don't remember exactly what I said, but whatever it was it has bought me some more time and Significant Other is still here, at least for now. What's more, he agreed to see someone and we have an appointment with a councellor at Rel@ate on Wednesday evening.

Please let this help. I can't lose three children and their father, I just can't.

lost in translation

Last night Significant Other told me that he "had an obligation" to stay with me, because if our infertility had been his fault, I would stay with him.

"An obligation".

For now I have decided that means something different in the Antipodes - you know, like "love you beyond measure and being without you is unthinkable". Because I just don't have the resources at the moment for it to mean anything else.

heartsease

I'm still very sad and defeated and exhausted.

But this evening a cup of tea (Ceylon) and a biscuit (malted milk) and my darling little cat (gorgeous) curled up next to me have proved to be a little bit of heartsease.

my thoughts fly up, my words remain below

We are not doing so well, Significant Other and I. I know that is to be expected, given his executive decision to call a halt to our TTC and his already-present depression, but it is disquieting just the same.

Significant Other is a taciturn man at the best of times and these being quite far from the best of times, he's now almost mute. He hasn't broached The Subject since his kick-in-the-stomach announcement last weekend, and I, in deference to his depression, am too scared to do so myself. We talk on an everyday level, of course - "what would you like for dinner tonight", "how was work", and "did you hear what the weather is meant to be today" being a few of the scintillating conversations we have.

But while outwardly I am the personification of Keep Calm and Carry On, inside my thoughts are hurtling back and forth and up and down and round, banging against each other and the walls of my brain. Bile-bitter, angry thoughts and furious, fist-shaking-at-the-universe questions.

it's over

Significant Other told me last night that he doesn't want to do IUI with injectables after all, that he wants to stop TTC.

That's it, we're done.

My parents will never be grandparents.

I will never be pregnant again.

I will never hold our baby in my arms.

I will never be able to look into the face of that unique human who is the best of him and me.

I will never be a mother.

Will I ever stop grieving?

ah the romance

On Thursday morning Significant Other suggested that he meet me after work that evening and we would have "date night" - nice dinner at a romantic restaurant with candles and wine and then splurge on a taxi home. I thought it was a lovely idea and wore a nice outfit to work and even - and this shows you how excited I was - found my make-up! I kid you not; lipstick, mascara, eyeshadow - the whole works.

At 5.00 I got a text to say that he didn't fancy coming all the way into town and could we meet somewhere close to home instead. Fair enough, it was pouring down rain and I understood not wanting to make the journey, so I was a bit disappointed but fine with exchanging the romantic meal for pub grub. And I was fine when he arrived at our local wearing a t-shirt with a huge coffee stain on the front (even though he'd had the 90 minutes it took me to get there from work to change).

I was even fine when he handed me an Easter egg bought in the local pound shop (although I had given him an handmade, organic chocolate one, bought at great expense) because that was the first Easter egg he's given me.

But I have to admit, I rather ran out of "fine" when he spent almost the entire meal talking about one of his ex-girlfriends, only stopping when I had objected for the second time.

I think that Romance, never a frequent visitor to the Illanare household at the best of times, may have taken off for her Gap year travels and is currently in a backpacker's hostel in Koh Samui...