And then along came my goddaughter!…..part 4 of my revelation.

My friend married the man of her dreams on a warm August day… although it did rain while we were all inside eating the wedding breakfast which apparently is good luck on your wedding day. Not sure how much I believe in these little superstitions,  but I guess it makes you smile a little if you read that stuff then it happened on YOUR wedding day. It was a wonderful day – so chilled out and so completely fitting to the couple getting married. Really, I could learn many lessons about not letting family push you around from MRS B. She stuck to her guns as the vision of a quiet simple wedding.  I love the fact they just decided to get married and that was it. 8 weeks tops from booking the church to walking down the aisle. THAT ROCKS! She never turned into Bridezilla. Not once. Although I think she may have threatened to not bother once but you’d have to ask her mother in law about that. I think the guests where in more of a tiz trying to get there at short notice and that just makes me laugh… not quite as much as the picture of her in her gorgeous wedding dress veil and all drinking a pint of larger. It’s just so her. Never fails to make me giggle.

Anyways, when she called me up and told me that MR. had finally convinced her it was the right time and she was coming off her birth control. she may have talked about it taking around a year to get pregnant,  but I had this sneaking suspicion things would happen alot faster than that. After all, when this pair decides to do anything, it just somehow gets done. Even I was not expecting the call as fast as it came. Basically, everything just happened maybe the first month… maybe second…not long at all, leaving nobody more surprised than mum to be herself.

Now, I have to tell you I’ve been dreaming of the day I’d make that phone call  to give a friend my good news since… well, younger than is healthy for such thoughts. So when I find out someone I know is pregnant, for some reason it always used to make me gulp.  I wasn’t jealous per se… just wishing life would hurry up with moving me towards that moment (There’s a lesson here I’m sure, about not wishing your life away but you can figure it out for yourselves). Since that whole “your infertile” appointment, this little gulp turned into a full-on sucker punch right in the ovary, as I found out when Kayak Man’s sister revealed she was expecting. I hate feeling that way. it makes me furious with myself that my first reaction to such important and joyful news is all about me and my distress and not the arrival of a new life or happiness  for my friends. The joy does kick in most times… in just a couple of minutes… They feel like the loooooongest time when someone’s on the other end of the line waiting eagerly for a response.

I’d been bracing for this call since the moment I found out they were trying, knowing that punch was coming but at the same time I love this couple so much. they were settled, happily married with a warm and loving home, where they had always made me welcome  I knew the future dad was concerned with not being an older father and truthfully when the news did come I have NEVER been so glad to get punched in the gut. Mrs. B’s sheer shock and surprise had us both laughing our heads off in minutes.

I was not expecting it at all but when my friend asked me to be her child’s godmother, I cried like the baby that was on the way lol. We would spend hours while she was pregnant talking about how tired she was, how awful the morning sickness was. Boy she had it bad. What she had been able to eat and how much she missed her husband when she got home feeling like she would pass out and the poor man was still working. We would joke about how little they were seeing each other.  My friend came home from work, went to bed and pretty much passed out till the next morning. Aww I felt sorry for her. She would tell me of every midwife appointment… not the gruesome details or anything, but enough for me to get a picture of what was happening. I was so very grateful. I felt privileged to be given this inside take on her pregnancy experience.

Every memory I have of her pregnancy is a treasure to me and a pleasure to recall. I’m pretty sure its not that way for her. I remember the 20 minute dissection of the menu when we went out for lunch in the early weeks. I watched her debate and struggle with what she could and couldn’t eat, worry written on her face, making her look more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her before…. We gave the best answers we could to her many questions I promise.

I remember the moment it all got too much for her as she collapsed against her husband fighting back tears when the shop assistant who was fitting her new bra size told her she couldn’t possibly buy that sexy underwear as the bras were underwired and that was a big no no in her condition. I have to tell you the same as I told her: I totally understand how upsetting this is. We searched and searched but there were no sexy non-underwired underwear. It was depressing. My friend cried on my shoulder and there was not much I could do about it except tap her gently on the back and promise a shopping trip at the end of her journey. This was basically the recurring theme for her in her whole pregnancy. She felt like she was giving up all of herself for the sake of her child and not that she was reluctant or regretting the decision… just finding the process hard. And really who can blame her? She’s never been one to live by the rules – like me – fiercely independent and after all, her whole world was changing. She talked of feeling cut off a little from her partner. They had shared everything and he couldn’t really help her with this. She could talk about it. She tired to share as much as possible but somehow it wasn’t the same … I get that. I understand. In fact, it leads to my one pregnancy pet peeve: couples who delight in telling the world “we’re pregnant”.  Noooooooooooooooo! YOU are “expecting… having a baby… in the family way.”  SHE is pregnant. Are you going to have to push a human out of your body? Are you growing another being inside you?  Do you have an clue at all how that feels… really? SHE is pregnant.  *breathes* ok I’m done. Sorry.

I was with MRS B. the weekend before Little N decided to make her dramatic entrance. She was beautiful – one of those women who really puts on little extra weight at all, apart of course from her baby belly. By that point she was already carrying low and much of the discussion over lunch was regarding this impending labor. I knew she had very little birth plan. Like I said, she’s not one for making rules. I loved her I’ll do what I need at the time attitude… and I so hoped it would go well for her.

Sadly it was not to be. Her labor on set so fast. From what I can make out, the people caring for her could barely keep up. She had no time for pain relief and spent most of that couple of hours confused and in agony, only aware that she was losing all one’s sense of dignity. Even though “Little N” is the most gorgeous little girl, my friend declared that she would NEVER do that again,  something she still feels to this day almost 3 years later. I’m sad for her. It feels like the birth has really traumatized her. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could make it easier for her to remember that time. I’m not sure what I wish really and I’m not judging anybody who was responsible for her care. I don’t know what happened in that delivery room.. I know that it profoundly affected my friend… enough to alter her opinion on having more babies in the future. I wish I knew. I wish I understood what was happening that she wasn’t given more of a choice – that no attempt was made to give her a little dignity. I know it may sound naive to all you who have been through this ordeal, but maybe that’s my problem.  I’m naive on this issue. I wish I wasn’t

I kept the excited /exhausted answerphone message where Mr. B announced my God daughter’s arrival in the inbox for a year and a half until the phone died. Sentimental old fool ain’t I?

Ali xX

All the colors of the Rainbow. (pregnancy & kids mentioned )

Ever say something stooped? It just kind of comes out, then when you think about it or even as in my case a friend points it out, then you realize what you just said MADE no sense at all?  Yup, I have those moments but last night was one of the best yet.  I came out with this little Gem: “I have a rainbow in my head right now!”… A RAINBOW IN MY HEAD … what the hell… Noo I had not been on happy pills. The room was not spinning. I did have a lack of sleep, so you can blame that if you wish.  So what happened that lead to this outburst? Well I was spending another evening in a somewhat over emotional mess, close to tears most of evening, crying by the end of the night.  There was such a jumbled mess of emotions in my head. I couldn’t make much sense of it and I was dwelling on it.  Yeah, for all that my friends tell me to let it go, move on, not worry about it, have faith that everything will be ok… I find actually DOING this ridiculously hard and so I dwell, I stress… the situation gets worse… things eat at me.

So there I was crying my eyes out to my somewhat confused friend who was of course gently poking fun at me in an attempt to make me laugh. Then I’m in this weird place where tears are pouring down my face.  I’m still sad but I’m laughing at the same time -   REALLY laughing – and now I’m just confused.  Friend: “you must be feeling better you’re laughing” Me: “I have a rainbow in my head right now!”  Friend: “ummm WTF?” *much laughter* I mean, what a ridiculous thing so say. Of course it was followed by discussion of what should be done about the rainbow; leave it there, pull it out my nose… I was laughing myself silly by the end of it, but i suspect it was one of those “late at night”  “both tired” and “you had to be there” moments.  I know exactly what I meant. I was feeling both extremes of emotion:  laughter, happiness and the warm glow of friendship = Sunshine while tears, lingering sadness, a little fear and a big dose of confusion = rain. Yep, at that moment I was feeling a whole spectrum of colorful emotions.  I really did have a rainbow of emotions in my head… yeah I hear ya all thinking that I’m silly but it makes perfect sense to me. I just don’t usually say these things OUTLOUD.

The idea of rainbows have been in my head for a few days because I was complaining to the same friend a while back that I really don’t see that many rainbows.  Whenever I do they always make me smile. He assures me that if I’m not seeing them it’s because I don’t know where to look. Apparently you must put the sun behind you when you look for rainbows.  This was news to me…

I had to go into town today to run a few errands. I was having one of those broody seeing days.  They happen to me every so often. You know, babies everywhere I turn… mothers and families and pregnant women. Seriously they must have been having a beautiful bump convention in my town today. They were EVERYWHERE I looked. Yeah summer’s coming and future mommies are wearing less clothes… and somehow they are harder not to notice…

I realized I have this same Rainbow moment every time I see a happy pregnant woman. It sounds pathetic doesn’t it?  But truly, that simple sight is so sooo complicated for my emotions to process. I mean I’m totally gaga about kids. As far as I’m concerned the more babies that arrive into this world safe and healthy miracles, the better. I’m not bitter towards other pregnant women. They make me smile. I don’t wish them any ill will. I don’t feel they are tormenting or teasing me with what they have that I don’t… and I really think they are all beautiful in their own way.. I wanna take care of them all. I want to meet all of those babies. I wonder what her child will look like… and I smile.

But I have this hole inside me that aches every single time.  It’s a deep sadness. It makes me cry a little on the inside and it aches just to remind me that its there just to knock me back to reality. “Ali you can’t have that”… “Look but don’t touch”… “You can daydream but that’s all it will ever be – dreams.  You’ll always wake up in this childless place because that’s the world you live in”… I wonder if I will ever find a way to fill that gap. .. I doubt it. Maybe one day it will just stop aching. Maybe… I can but hope.

I guess in a way infertility makes me see these moments. I doubt I’d even notice these women if I was still taking the whole having a family thing for granted. Instead I see families…children… and love…  the way daddy sometimes is all nervous kind of doing this odd dance around his partner… wanting to help… not sure if he should .. I see the mother caressing her belly… I watch kids playing… Yeah, I know, life is not always perfect moments, but I feel like my eyes are a little more open and I notice more of them. They make me feel good… and they give me a little faith in the human race.

It dawns on me: infertility is as much a part of me as any of my other attributes. It shapes me , my views , my behavior, the way I look at the world… but ultimately it’s up to me: how I react, what I do. Sure, it would be easy to sink into depression and declare I can’t go on… that the world is too painful and life IS NOT FAIR! .I could throw my toys out of my pram and spend an eternity asking WHY?! And believe me… there are a lot of days when I feel this way, when it feels like my whole life will be nothing but fight and struggle..

Somehow, I want to find the strength to make something good come out of this. To remember that rainbows don’t just show up after rain but they are there because of it.

I don’t know if a child will be my pot of gold at the end of this infertility road… but maybe there is somewhere over the rainbow.

Ali xX

News : the good, the bad & the ugly.

Forgive me for failing to write anything yesterday. I did a lot more exercises than is usual for me and boy was I feeling it. My knees where creaking worse than an old rocking chair.  Why, you ask, did I push myself so far? Well, you see, I had my first session of actual First Aid training booked for yesterday. Unfortunately, I was also still lacking bus fare.  Yes, I could have missed it and joined the next course, but I have no idea when that would have been and I’m already joining this one half way through with a catch up session planned. I felt more comfortable with the idea of joining this course because I knew of two other newbies joining this week. Safety in numbers, I reckon, so I decided to walk it.  It took me about an hour to get into the center of Birkenhead. That’s way too long and just proves I’m so unfit.  You know it’s bad when you arrive and you hear “uugh I feel how you look!”  Hay but at least I was there with the motivational struggles I’ve had. I’m proud of that. Of course I had to walk an hour home again, too. My body is protesting today. In fact I was due to go back for the regular meeting tonight but just couldn’t face that walk again. It’s not a compulsory meeting. I won’t miss too much and of course I’ll be back next week.

Back tracking today… I’ve done nothing, barely got out of bed and had to be talked into eating because I so didn’t feel like it. The thought of food was making me ill and super fussy. There was just nothing I wanted to digest in the house. This is still a childish behavior and I should know better. I should have better control over my body… no food = no meds… and NO MEDS is bad! Yup, today I was an idiot and totally lame. I finally did eat a small portion of tinned fruit and I felt so full I could have sworn I was going to burst. Admittedly I had taken my Metformin too so I’m not sure what was making me feel so sick – the food or the pill. My heart was racing there for a little while. Sucks and so frustrating.

One thing I did notice today is just how used to swallowing pills my body has gotten. I mean, for example, when I was younger I would have trouble swallowing even one tiny little thing. Honestly, my mum used to hide the thing in a spoonful of jam or a slice of apple just to get me to take it  (yeah Gadget Guy did point out that’s how they give meds to dogs and cats. Thanks, dude ). But now, even tough I had been struggling to eat all frikkin’ day,  I can happily hold a selection of six or seven different pills in the palm of my hand, toss my head back and swallow them without thinking with the same ease as my beloved M&M’s. That’s nuts. I take so many of the things I’m surprised I don’t rattle like my pill box.

Medically: do you want the good news or the bad news? Let’s start with the bad, that way you know things are gonna get better. I got news about my dad today. Not good. He’s in a really bad way, has had another stroke I didn’t know about. Broke his hip too… refused physio treatment and is now permanently wheelchair bound. He was refusing to eat which they thought was depression…until they took him to the dentist. I’ll not go into everything that was wrong, but shit he must have been in pain for ages without saying anything (he doesn’t / can’t really talk much). The upshot of it all is the poor man has had ALL of his teeth removed. Kind of ironic since he spent most of his life developing, among other things, some of the most well known brands of toothpaste. Also ironic is that I have my first dentist appointment in about 2 years tomorrow. I have always hated the dentist, but that’s one thing I won’t be skipping out on ANYMORE!

I’m gutted to see my dad this way. He’s only 62. I experience so many different emotions with everything that’s gone on between us.  I feel like my brain just hit a brick wall and splattered a mess of feelings all over the place… guilt, anger, compassion… more guilt… some numbness. I don’t think I’m really ready to talk about it yet. Maybe when I’ve made some more sense out of things. It’s never cut and dry, is it?

The good news: my friend’s ultrasound was absolutely fine. Her due date is October 30th. Ohhhhh I want this kid to be born on Halloween so much… it just appeals to the former Goth in me. How cool would that be! I panicked about it the whole flipping day till she called me. I was a mess. It seems a little crazy… there was no reason to think anything would be wrong.. I just… I… I find myself always fearing the worst re: pregnancy. The worry makes me sick… physically SICK.

Other changes today: Gadget Guy worked his ass off to create a Health Journal for me – an easy place where I can record all my symptoms and feelings daily so I can keep an eye on things. I should have done this ages ago. He’s been kicking my ass about it for months. I need to keep better track of things so I can notice any changes.. I have dutifully promised to complete it everyday from now on… promises you make to close friends are serious things. I better not screw up.

Note to self: ALWAYS PAY ATTENTION WHEN CHECKING YOUR E-MAIL!!! .. Right under the message about my father… other important news:  I was so wrapped up in the dad thing I nearly missed it. Now I don’t want to jinx this. I’m so nervous. I’m not expecting anything at all… but…

*whispers really quietly* I have a job interview…

Ali xX

K.S.: I’m getting stronger… I may have had a bad day… but it was just one day not several and I am still anti depressant free.

Infertility bites.

Lost… alone… overwhelmed… feeling like I could break down in tears at any moment. I’m weak today. Sometimes I have days like this when the world seems so big, impersonal and unfair.  I feel invisible even when people are around me, like I can’t connect with them somehow, as if there’s an invisible barrier between me and them like a comic book force field or a pain of glass. I can see the world I know. It was sunny today. I heard the bird song through the open window.  I even went out, even if it wasn’t to the beach like originally planned. Nothing particularly bad happened.  There was no catastrophic event.  No panic attack. I ate all my meals and I slept just fine last night.

So, why do I feel so numb… why did I come home intending to tidy the bomb site I now call my home and find myself completely unable to act -  not knowing where to begin. time just passing…

PCOS makes me tired. The list of problems and challenges feels so big that some days I can’t see the point. I often think what I would give for one day off, one day without having to worry. if people can notice the stubble yet or face the automatic assumption that I’m lazy and I don’t care or that I must be killing myself with junk food when nobodies looking just because I’m overweight if one more person tells me (hmm you’ve gained a little or thinks its ok to poke my stomach ‘cause they’re just “playing” I’m not sure if I’ll collapse in a heap or scream blue murder).  I wonder what it would be like to watch kids paying in the park or a mum with a new baby and smile… without the twisting feeling inside. The pang of envy that comes from knowing that nobody will ever laugh watching me with my child. I want to feel happy for them, to giggle at a toddlers never ending curiosity, to hear parents stories of sleepless nights, nappy changes, temper tantrums, even morning sickness, swollen ankles and labour… take for granted that one day I can share my stories too. It’s only been a couple of years since I was this way, but it feels like a lifetime ago.  Now every memory is tainted and leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I fear that its quietly destroying my soul making me a bitter and jealous person that I don’t want to be.

I’m 26 for goodness sake.  I should be out there enjoying life – partying, traveling, and going on crazy adventures. Ok maybe just holding down a job and trying to make a home for myself with the occasional dash of excitement.  Instead I already feel like I’m running out of time… it seems so difficult to make anyone understand I’m infertile. It’s just a fact to them.  They feel sorry, they say things like well maybe IVF, maybe adoption… or that its awful  unjust… and even what a good mother I would have made and they move on. Why can’t I move on?  I feel like I have a gaping hole inside me that will never be fixed or filled and the prospect of papering over the cracks for the rest of my life is just unbearable.  Is it crazy that I sometimes wish I had some horrific injury, some scar  or cut or piece of me missing  just some physical representation of the hurt the sadness that is always with me… would being able to see make it easier for others to understand ?

I’m not TTC. I’m not even in a relationship where we’re thinking about it… but how do I face telling a future partner that being with me means giving up being a dad? How can I expect someone to choose me over that? 

This is the underlying issue for me next to this loss of a dream.  Sometimes everything seems so trivial… extra hair is awful, it’s embarrassing and my weight makes me feel ashamed. The list of nasties that we’re at extra risk of is as long as my arm and none of them are pleasant or easy to deal with. The period pains bring me to my knees and when I don’t get them I FEEL WORSE.  I don’t really feel like a woman – feminine or pretty are words that are used for other people unless you’re trying to make me laugh or taking the piss.  As for sexy… don’t even ! 

But I’m sure I could cope with all this… if only I could see the words “I love you mommy” somewhere in my future…

Hell… what am I talking about … I cope… I have no choice… and I don’t feel this way everyday. I’m not always thinking about it… I laugh, I smile, I have fun and I enjoy things just like everybody else.

But then there are days like this… alone, overwhelmed. I just want someone to hold me. I want to let go and cry again but somehow tears don’t come to stop my thoughts from racing.  maybe I’d  feel a little calmer so I can remind myself  that I’ll never find a new purpose  for my life if I stop looking .

I tried to call a few people but for one reason or another tonight they were all busy with their own lives… not that I begrudge them that one bit. The world does not come to a grinding halt ‘cause I’m having a bad day thank God because nothing would get done around here.

Ali xX

K.S.: things can only get better…

Can I have a word……… about a baby.

 Motherhood is hard. It’s a 24 hour job with no breaks. It’s a life long contract it’s draining financially, emotionally and physically… or at least what I have seen of it. I’m not a mother, but from every angle I look at it this gig is tough.

Yet there’s nothing I want more…  not even a Green Card. I’ve wanted to be a mum for as long as I can remember. Remco – that’s the name of my first doll – a baby boy to match the one my parents brought home from the hospital (we called the real one Andrew and a fine brother he turned out to be). I was two. After that came a little girl that cried tiny tears and had the most frightful blonde curly hair. She was from my Granny.  I had a bald Cabbage Patch baby whose head smelt funny that Santa left me one Christmas morning, Finally, I had Rosemary. She was a big baby and I saved up for her all by myself from my weekly pocket money (I didn’t tell them but she was my favorite).  I was nine. After that, my parents declared I was too old for dolls and a blanket ban on new babies was strictly imposed.  I remember them all. I loved them dearly. I only wanted to play the mommy game when I was a kid, much to the frustration of my playmates. What I loved best was “helping” look after my younger cousins.  I pushed Graeme to sleep in his pram when my arms still had to reach up to the handle. I couldn’t even see in to look at him. His mommy gave me the nod as he dosed off “mission accomplished”. I remember the wide eyed amazement I felt when I first saw my uncle cradling a new addition to the family. I just kept thinking she’s tiny. TINY.  No, you don’t understand – really really small. Breast feeding made my head spin. I’m sure I must have creeped my aunt’s out.  I didn’t intend to be rude but was fixed to the spot with fascination staring at them through the thick lenses I had to wear. Would have been a great look I bet.  I EVEN remember the first time I was shown how to change a nappy. How delighted I was that I was allowed to share the help (trust me this is the one fascination I have truly gotten over… yeah).       

I imagined I’d have three kids: A boy, a girl, a few years gap and then the baby of my family.  I even had their names picked out since my teens.

I believed, I was born to be a mum, apparently I was wrong.

If you’ve read my blog at all, you’d know that’s not going to happen for me. The chances are I won’t be a mum… ever (I know, I know. people have told me before there’s always adoption. I love the way they sound so happy when they say it, though the thought of it makes me die a little more inside – I don’t want a baby. I want MY baby. Maybe my outlook will change with time. Here’s hoping)

I’m not telling you all this to talk about myself though. I don’t need sympathy or pity or tissues.  I’m not sitting here crying my eyes out either. I just need you to understand. I know about wanting babies. I know about being broody. Yeah, they don’t turn that off when your reproductive system goes into meltdown. I understand. If you could give me nine months of carrying a child when the time is right for me, you can have the rest of my life. Seriously.

The key for me is “when the time is right.” My dream of having a child is not to have one at all cost. I want to be able to support my children.  I want to bring them into a loving and stable environment. If you offered me the chance to carry life right now, I’d like to think I’d say no. I know it would tear me apart to pass that up but I hope to goodness I’d be strong enough for the baby’s sake.  I’m in no place to look after a child. I’m embarrassed to admit it but I wouldn’t cope.

Don’t take this as me being anti-single parent because I’m not – there are many, many genuine reasons that either parent ends up raising an infant alone  and I have nothing but respect and admiration for anyone in that position. I believe they should be given every support.

BUT … you’re 22 years old.  You have two wonderful children already – a son who’s so smart, a daughter with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen – each depending on you to show them how to fulfill all the potential they were given, each looking to you to nourish and protect them – watching you, learning by your example, with so much love to give you if you would only let them.  They have no father figure, which I know means you have to be both for them. I know that kills you. You’ve been to the edge and I’ve heard you cry. Wished I could be right there to hold you and help you to make things a little better to ease the burden.  I know the fierce love you have for them but I also see the struggle of coping with two young children on your own – the heartache of one living away from you .

I was devastated for you when you miscarried your third child. I was so mad that you didn’t call me, didn’t let me be there, never reached out to me until after the fact.

Now you’re pregnant. Congratulations.

I want to be happy for you.  I want to be able to jump up and down and scream for joy to look forward to your new journey, to shopping for baby clothes and meeting your child.

But there is so much I don’t understand. I thought you were struggling with two? I thought you were focusing on getting your son back with you and not living at your mother’s? I thought you would have learned to be more careful… or did you plan this? Do you want it? Are you really happy?

What about the father? Is he happy… does he want a child? Will he be there for you and the three kids always? How long have you been together anyways? Is a few months long enough to decide to create a life together? From what I can see, he’s so young – I mean in some countries he’s still underage.

What am I missing? What pieces of the puzzle do I need to see things the way you do? Because, right now, I’m angry – angry and hurt. I mean if everything you’ve shared with me is true then I’m so scared by the prospect of another child that, to be honest, I feel like you showed amazing irresponsibility. If it’s not true then you’ve lied to me all this time?

What do you want from me? Someone to listen? You can have that. Someone to care? You know I do. Someone to jump into your arms and tell you this is the best news ever? I can’t do that. I’m sorry. I wish nothing but the best for you and your kids. Always have… and always will. For heaven’s sake I’m not saying you shouldn’t have the child. I would never wish the pain of giving up a child on anyone and I certainly couldn’t ask of you something I would find so utterly impossible any more than I would wish harm on an unborn child. After all, babies don’t choose the situations they are born into. They have to trust that someone else thought about that. Convince me you thought about it.

I have read so many sad stories recently. I’ve been looking, you know, for others with PCOS – someone who might know what I am going though. searching for information, trying to figure out how I can cope, what I should do to help myself – because I need to deal with this and, unlike you, I had no control over what’s happened to me. I mostly found women, couples struggling with infertility, waiting for years, hoping praying to be on the right side of a statistic, desperate for miracle. These people are in stable relationships. They have homes of their own. They have jobs – work for their living and endure terrible heartache. How is it fair that they find impossible something which you seem to take for granted? I find myself wondering if you walked a few miles in their position, would you still have such a casual attitude to the creation of life that you appear to have right now??

It infuriates me, but the truth is the world is not fair. The taxpayers money will be spent on supporting your third child, meanwhile the NHS is refusing other couples fertility treatment. I guess there’s only so much money to go round, huh?  

So, there you have it – the honest ugly truth. I’m angry with you. I’m a little hurt. I’m disappointed. Most of all, I’m confused and I don’t want to go on feeling this way.

Please explain. Make me understand.

 Love  Ali xX

“Children begin by loving their parents ; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.” 

 ~ Oscar Wilde