Hello everyone. I've been lurking and read all your posts so have been drinking in your news/feelings and been sympathising with you. Betty, wonderful, wonderful advice from Zoe. Take heart...things really do have a way of figuring themselves out.
I've not been on here for a couple of days under instruction from Michael (DP). Two nights ago I had the most hysterical crying episode over a debate on my old thread concerning women who were complaining that their partners/husbands weren't willing - or were 'too exhausted' - to make love at the crucial times around ovulation (these are women on a 'trying to conceive' thread who have spent hundreds, if not thousands of pounds having exploratory tests and alternative therapy). Anyway, I was very frank (as usual) and didn't beat about the bush regarding my opinion of such 'DPs'. The cacophony of (cyber) shrieks and protestations was deafening. I was told I was 'trying to teach Grandmother to suck eggs'; I had 'no right' to offer advice or opinion when I 'quite cleary have fallen pregnant easily' myself, etc, etc.
Stupidly, maybe, I tried to defend myself and basically told the harridans who my post was not even concerning to shut their traps. I won't give you the full details, but...it got pretty ugly...and personal (I was told that my being slim, fit, a non-smoker and teetotaller who got pregnant easily basically qualified me as condescending twat, full-stop). Michael had to sit me down and rationailse the whole debacle and my feelings surrounding it all. I hate upsetting people and genuinely wanted to give a frank opinion about some DPs needing to get a bloody grip (I mean, it's not called 'Sex With Intention' for nothing, is it?!) Oh dear. It's just all a horrid mess and I'm devastated to have upset or annoyed anyone. Happily there were only three ladies who found my post contentious and the others are wishing me well in my pregnancy.
I feel like a rotter: a nasty, intolerant, imperious, big-mouthed know-it-all who's lost the plot and lost her way. Michael even put me on a train to my Mum's to stay here for a few days (he knew I was desperate to see her anyway and that Mum needs me at the moment with her degenerative illness). He knew I needed to get away from those four walls and 'get back to reality' and 'remind yourself, in the company of those people who adore you, what really matters in your life'. Sigh. He was so right.
So, here I am, at Mum's, and things are no better. I feel exactly like a coiled spring ready to snap. I feel miserable, tense and boiling over with what I can only hope are pregnancy hormones. Just a short while ago I went to the Spar for Mum and I almost murdered a shop assistant there. She was leaning over the empty icecream and puddings freezer, small pick-axe in hand, defrosting it with loud incessant, methodical thuds. Suddenly I couldn't think. I couldn't see. Red mist was rising and I physically couldn't find the correct aisles for the goods I was looking for. I literally left the shop, empty-handed, weeping with silent rage, the noise of the pick-axe following me all the way home.
I am so miserable and uptight. My sister's marriage is crumbling aroundd her ears and Mum's illness is horrible to witness (although, as a committed Christian, her spirits remain high). I'm sorry to have offloaded all of this onto you ladies but I honestly feel like the most wound-up, horrid and shameful bitch. I am miserable.