Dear Ladies,
As im not in the habit of asking for help, im not sure where to start. I suppose ill just jump in...
I had 4 miscarriages in the past 2.5 years. My husband and I have been tested for clotting and lupus and carotype and you name it.... They found nothing.Â
 Now I am recovering from a ruptured fallopian tube; no. 5 chose to nestle there. At 12 weeks, after 3 methotrexate injections it ruptured. I bled into my abdominal cavity, causing more pain than you would believe, and I lost a litre of blood before I got to hospital. The hospital kindly removed it and the offending tube. 3 small holes, 5 stitches. That's all I have to show for pregnancy no. 5.
In August I'll be 40. I have no children. Â
I feel so lost, so utterly bereft and shattered...so unbelievably tired and ground down. By the hoping, the temping, the unspontaneous dutiful sex, the waiting, the pain both physical and emotional, the hospital visits, the trying to hold back the unreasonable tidal wave of joy at two stripes on the stick once again, the fear, the sickening, paralizing fear... Will it live this time? Is it brown blood or red? Maybe it is just spotting. Maybe it is just a week late nestling. Maybe I got my dates wrong and it isn't 6 weeks since my last ovulation... And maybe the proverbial providers of bacon do have a shining career in aviation waiting for them.Â
More and more people around me want me to quit, give up, be grateful for what I have and forget about having children. Â Part of me wants to. Wants to give up, give in, throw down the towel, stop letting this misery rule my world, rule my health, rule my sex life...
All the rest of me just flies into a panic, a flat-out rage at the idea of having to live without children of my own. At having to skip the main course of life's menu and tread water for the next 2/3 decades untill it's time for dessert.
I miss the children I do not have so dreadfully. I miss them physically. I'm living in the house we bought to have a family in and I know where the cot would go, I have my own old baby room furniture waiting in the wings, and in my mind's eye I can see him/her toddling up the garden path towards me. Â Sometimes the only thing that pathetically helps a little, only a little, is to cradle my cat in my arms and walk around jiggling her, which, indeed, said cat does n o t thank me for:)
I know nobody can help me. I know it means nothing to anyone else. I just had to let it out. Just a little. I just feel so desperate.
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5 replies
TheDutchess · 20/06/2012 00:45
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