Thoughts

Been a while since i posted. I've had quite a bit of work and that hasn't left much time for reading or commenting on your blogs or for writing on mine.

I've had a few issues with friends that have upset me a little and i've come to a realisation.

1. We will never be like them. "We" being us fertile-ly challenged folk and "them" being those lucky enough to have a baby more or less when they want one. I'm not sure if pregnancy for them is quite so stressful, because if anything were to go wrong, chances are, it would be a whole lot easier for them to get knocked up again. As it took many thousands of pounds and two and a half years of my life to get this far, the thought of having to start again is...unthinkable.

2. They're NEVER going to "get it". They think that just because Mr G and I are now knocked up, we are now just like them. To them, all the horrors of the last few years have faded away. Since news got out of our lucky break, we're receiving invitations from "babied-up" people who we've not socialised with once since we got married. "We MUST get together" they say. Why? Why are we suddenly eligible to join some club we were previously excluded from?

I didn't want to be part of that crowd before and I definitely don't now. I'm just not comfortable enough that TP is here for the duration and in any event - nothing's changed for us. We'll stick with the friends who've stuck with us, thank you very much, not the baby club folk.

3. They can plan. They're most likely booking ante-natal classes and planning births the minute those two magic lines show up. I still hold my breath and check the toilet paper every single time I wipe. Every single time. I'm not sure i'll ever stop - well, not until early November, that is.

I'm even still too superstitious to remove the boxes of various sanitary protection on the shelf behind our toilet. I might research some ante-natal classes this week - mainly because i keep being told they'll get booked up otherwise.

4. They (often) take the blessing of a child for granted and see reproduction as their natural right. (And maybe it is) They don't hold their breath each day that it might get taken away. I (silently) thank my lucky stars (and G-d) every morning, afternoon and evening for TP. Mr G and I really can't believe we've been so blessed but a part of us keeps expecting it to be taken away. How can we be allowed to be so happy?

5. They talk about their "first pregnancy" and are already planning their second. They take for granted that if they want more than one, that's what they'll have and often they take for granted being able to plan when that child or those children will be conceived. I know that if TP makes it to term and beyond, that will be it for us. We may adopt (if we can afford it) and that's what i'd like to do. But we won't be making any more babies. This pregnancy ain't my first, it is, most likely, my only.

6. Their men (that sounds a bit cave man) can strut around, peacock-like, chests thrust out with pride at how manly they are having impregnated their wives/girlfriends. I bought Mr G a book called "The Bloke's Guide to Pregnancy" which (unfortunately) bangs on and on about this part of pregnancy. It has made my gorgeous husband feel rubbish and even more emasculated because of how TP started out. I hate that. I could tell him a million times he's just as much of a man to me - actually even more so than many of their men - and i'm SO VERY PROUD of him and how he has got us through this so far, but i know he won't believe me. It's true.

Now things are looking more promising, he's starting to let the walls down a little. The tears - which he held back for my sake when I did all the crying - are starting to flow. It makes me well up when I think of how much he has retained and how full of longing he is for this baby.

I really hope I don't sound bitter. I'm not. I just feel closer to those of us who've been in the trenches and who are still there than I do to those haven't but at the same time, i know those of you still fighting will perhaps think we're a world apart. I know i've leapt one of the fences, but i'll never stop being an infertile.

I think i may have blathered on a bit long but i needed to get stuff of my chest. There's more, but it's not for now. There's also the mundane stuff, but i think i'll save you that stuff for another post.

BTW - today has been GORGEOUS here in London. 70 degrees plus and sunny. Bliss. Mr G and I met my parents for a lovely lunch at another favourite haunt - Cafe Med in St Johns Wood - where we sat out on their terrace eating delicious food and drinking wine - them not me. Perfect.