It’s now (almost) Tuesday, nearly three weeks since my operation. I’m going back to work on Thursday, and I’ll be glad to get back into a normal routine.
I’ve had plenty of ups and downs recently. I spent a good few days feeling extremely anxious about any possible social engagements over the Christmas period. The ever-present social anxiety coupled with the decision to drink or not drink at events; all of which feels even more unsettling when I think about it through the filter of our infertility struggle, which is the biggest thing going on in my life right now.
Last week my friend came to visit me – the one with the two year old. She didn’t bring her along though – I just wanted to have some time for the two of us together. I had been pulling away because I was finding it very hard to relate. I was focusing on our differences rather than our similarities, and last weekend I decided I needed to try and put that aside, and spend some quality time. She is my oldest friend, after all! So we had a lovely afternoon. I did feel uneasy and lost when she had been talking about playgroups and potty training and waiting lists for schools for a while – a kind of sinking, ‘oh my god this might never be my reality‘ sort of sadness. But it was OK, we moved on to talking about other things. I’m really happy it went so well 🙂
On Thursday I went to collect my sicknote from the GP, and as I was pulling out onto the main road, I passed my Dad, who was walking to the chemist. I won’t go into all the details but it’s impossible to stop there, and he had more or less reached the chemist, so I went on my way. But he wasn’t wearing a coat! I flicked the indicator stalk button thingy and it told me the temperature outside was 7 degrees. Now, Dad had lost his coat and hat somewhere a week or two ago, but he went shopping with my sister, mum, aunt and cousin to buy a new coat. He is suffering from short term memory loss and it makes me so sad. I find myself wanting to protect him. I popped in to my parents house on my way home from the GP. Mum was busy in the garden and I said to Dad, ‘where’s your new coat, Dad? It’s 7 degrees out there and I saw you walking to the village with no coat on!’. He kind of said ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I should put it on, I don’t want to upset you’, and he gave me a hug. I just dissolved into tears…Lots of emotion.
He sat me down at the kitchen table and made me a cup of tea. Mum came in from sorting the chickens and we talked about stuff. Dad showed me the new coat, plus an anorak with a fleecy liner (that mum doesn’t like). He felt the new one should be for best only, as it cost a lot of money. But I explained it was to replace the lost coat, which was for everyday. I made sure he didn’t just think it wouldn’t go with his casual clothes. So hopefully that’s all sorted, he’ll definitely be wearing a coat from now on!!
I also told Mum about Mr W having come home from the pub a couple of weeks previously, and having a huge argument with me. A few days after the operation, and he started the argument by blaming me for the state of the kitchen! Which was in a mess, but I’d already decided I would clean it up the next day. Well, he was even talking – not in so many words – about divorce. I didn’t know what to do. I really thought that might have been it. The argument changed to the subject of IVF. Apparently I had been ‘ramming it down his throat’ for far too long and he’d had enough. A little while after that, he burst into tears and said he just wished we could do it naturally. He’s worried and afraid what will happen if it doesn’t work. I really needed to get all that off my chest, but I’m so glad I waited until everything had well and truly blown over before I said anything to Mum.
So yes, a bit of a rough ride so far. But I think I’m settling down again, emotionally. I’ve got a lot to write about in future posts, as various thoughts have been floating through my mind. I somehow have an urge to understand much more about endometriosis – about what causes it and how to minimise it’s effects, if that is possible. I feel like it is a part of me, it’s just something that my body is doing, and rather than somehow blank it out of my thoughts I need to know it better.
I’m also trying to let go of the idea that I know what my future should look like, and let go of trying to control the outcome at every stage. I do know what I would like to happen, and sometimes that does get the better of me and I worry about how I will cope if things don’t turn out the way I want them to. But I know I need to be open to all possibilities, otherwise I risk not seeing the good things in my life – the things that might not match my hopes and dreams but are blessings nonetheless.