Well, the last few days have been emotional. I have let everyone down, including myself - especially myself. I have lost focus on who I am, what I am working towards and where I want to be. I didn't want to do a 'how terrible 2010 has been' post, but the reality is that it has left me scarred in ways that I am only now truly realising.
The old saying goes 'if you have your health, then you have everything'. So what happens when you don't have your health? What happens when 'healthiness' walks out of the front door for a very long holiday? Last year my whole family was blighted with illness - my parents, my sister, my hubby, my son. I wasn't spared this ill-fate either, with the pains from endo being the worst that I can remember. Of course, you go on, you face each day and take on the the challenges that face you, but I have to admit, I ran out of energy a long time ago.
I'm in danger of writing a post of 'woe is me', filled with self-pity. That's not my intention, but right now I am feeling very broken. I can't stop the tears. I can't concentrate on the things more precious to me. I feel like I'm not really living.
I love university. I love learning. I always have, and my problems of adolescence (yes, more medical dramas which I might save for another day) stole my chance to go to uni when everyone thought I would go. I'm not sad about that. My course choice now is based on my experiences, my interests and my dreams for the future. I know I would have made the wrong choice at 18. However, since starting back in September, I just haven't been able to focus. The passion was lost in the hot flushes, the scans, the pain and the unending need for a baby. I know that my exams and essays of last term are going to be disappointing. I know that they won't be what I expect of myself. Am I strong enough to face the disappointment in myself? To be honest I'm not sure.
So this week, starting back to uni has been tough. I have decided though to face it head on, and recentre my love and passion. I am starting a 9-5 routine as best I can. I am working my little socks off (well, actually I always wear knee high socks, but you get the picture ;) ). Ill-health may have stolen me for the last 8 months, but I won't let it take this away too.
It's not just uni that has been affected. I've spent less time with my gorgeous hubby and son than they deserve. I feel guilty for not being able to give my hubby another baby. I feel guilty that I can't give my little boy the baby brother or sister he keeps asking for. So instead of sharing the guilt with them, I decided that I should hide away. That way the guilt was my own. In reality all I have done is made it twice as hard to talk to hubby about this because I picture the anger and hatred he has for me is the same as what I have for myself.
DH forced me to face this head-on last night. He told me to stop hiding. He told me he knew what I was doing. He reminded me that the want for a baby is OURS. Our IF is OURS. I love him so very much. After a lot of tears (from us both), I think that we have managed to start this journey together again.
IF is such a b*tch. It takes what is a natural and beautiful wish and turns it into a painful nightmare. Bringing a child into the world is about the sharing of love with another, yet IF manages to make it cold, clinical and traumatic. IF makes you hate yourself, it makes you envious of others, it makes you change. And not all the changes are for the better. But, some are. To survive IF you need to be strong. You need to know you are not alone. You need to have more love, more than can be imagined by others.
So here I am, still broken, still hurting, still filled with guilt and self-hate. But, I am going to make IF wish it hadn't messed with me. I am going to get my degree, I am going to be the best Mummy and wife that I can be. Whether it kills me along the way is another story, but for now I need to at least try.
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