Back to the Grindstone

First week back at work after a glorious holiday and boy has it been a hard week, in more ways than one!  Most people understand the post-holiday blues, everyone I talk to is a little bit down at leaving the carefree ways of the holiday world behind them and settling down to another year at the grindstone.  What many people don’t understand though is the added bonus for us infertile of the post-holiday baby announcements.  Unfortunately for me there is a lot of baby talk around my desk at the moment which doesn’t seem to be quite so prevalent on other floors of the building.  The wife of one of the guys I work next to is due to have her first baby in a few weeks.  This is a fact that everyone in the building seems to be aware of so anyone venturing even remotely in the vicinity of his office feels the need to stop for a chat on the matter and offer advice.  Extra lucky for me is that one of my bosses, who sits pretty much next door to this guy, also has a pregnant wife, so cue endless discussions on babies.  I never thought two guys would talk so much about it!  Add into this mix the people who feel this week is the best time to reveal their exciting news to their work colleagues, plus a few more comments and photos on Facebook and the trajectory is set for infertile meltdown.

Luckily it was just a small one this time.  Just a bad day all round, with other work and family stuff going on also, and by lunchtime it all got a bit much.  Went for lunch with my hubby and shed a few tears while out of the office, managed to compose myself and made it back to my desk looking almost normal. Two minutes in and the baby talk starts up again, argh!  Had to make a quick dash into my bosses very private corner office (she’s still on leave) to quietly lose the plot while the chatter carried on just outside the door.  It’s not that I’m not really happy for all of those revelling in their prospective parenthood, I am….Especially since all involved are such nice people.  It’s just pretty hard to remain positive 100% of the time.  I try my best to think on the bright side, that one day that will be me, that now my endometriosis has been removed and I’ve started on Clomiphene everything should be looking brighter on the baby front.  I think I’m pretty successful most of the time.  If I hadn’t told people I don’t think they’d realise the situation we’re in, but people still don’t really understand.  I honestly don’t think you truly can unless you’ve been in this situation yourself.  Same goes with a lot in life I guess.

It’s not a matter of jealousy of other people’s success (though I won’t deny that you do get pangs now and then), and it’s not even really a matter of trying to thinking positively.  It’s that you begin to question yourself and your ability to function like a normal human being.  Even on my good days I have the occasional wave of doubt.  I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, if my body can actually do what it’s physically supposed to.  I’m a woman, I am supposed to have an innate ability to reproduce and help continue the population.  What is it about me that makes me less of a woman biologically than any other female.  What do all these other women have that I don’t?

Unlike all of these ‘other women’, I have never experienced a BFP. I do realise this also means I have never experienced a miscarriage either (for which I am extremely grateful), unless you count the chemical pregnancy I thought I had in month 6, but I didn’t take a pregnancy test that month so it remains merely thought and speculation.  It would be nice to know that it’s actually achievable for me (the pregnancy that is) as it’s obviously unverified and we’re currently running on assumptions….and nearly two years is an awful lot of assumptions!  It’s been so long I’m almost not sure what I would do if I became pregnant, I mean, we’ve dedicated all this time, money, and energy towards finding Bumble it’s become a project in itself.  Would I know what to do with myself?  The excitement of a positive test is barely imaginable and I often find myself wondering how I would respond if or when this happens. Who would I tell, when, and in what order? As yet that’s undecided.  Ah well, I guess we can all dream.   Here’s hoping 13 is our lucky number and I get to see the result we’ve been hoping for this year.

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