Stream of bloody consciousness

I could probably set my blog posts up to be on rotation, because these emotions are cyclical and predictable based on yet another failed attempt to conceive naturally this cycle. The last few weeks have been immensely frustrating.  I’ve spent time working towards psychologically preparing myself for IVF but this is now going to take 8 weeks longer than we had previously been advised, whilst our funding is approved.  So we are looking at July.  Of course, at the back of my mind I’m still calculating our likely statistics of achieving a positive pregnancy test result, based on the length of time our previous pregnancies have taken to achieve whilst taking into consideration that small issue of being 1 tube down.  I still hoped it would happen, it’s still normal to believe, to dream, to wish, to feel it, to convince yourself, to avoid taking the tests (mostly because my reaction to the big fat negative is getting more and more stressful and extreme), and then that stark confirmation of a tissue wipe of red blood.  Wouldn’t it be kinder to have your hopes and dreams crushed by something a little softer than blood?  A little flower falling from the sky perhaps.  But blood.  It’s become so gruesome, so reminiscent of the thick pouring loss after my miscarriages.  Nothing that a bit of Savlon and a plaster can help with unfortunately.  Nothing that a kiss and a cuddle can comfort.  It’s a lonely place to be in – cycle day 1 and 2.  Looking ahead to the weeks that will follow.  Repeating this same game again, writing my rambling thoughts in this stream of bloody consciousness, just wondering if we can be given this gift before overloading my body with drugs and hormones.  You never do know, but right now, achieving this dream is feeling impossible and I do start to wonder…will it ever be us?

My meditation card and focus this week is on practicing Patience. It is our own path, and we must not make comparisons.  Those pink balloons scattering the office for someone else’s baby really have nothing to do with me – that is not my path, not my experience, not the remnants of my baby shower.  The weekend baby celebrations weren’t a personal dig at my own failures – it is all so entirely separate to our journey, yet it’s so hard to keep it this way and not to have my own feelings of inadequacy triggered.  Be patient, be kind, be loving.  I cannot continue this journey without an ample dose of patience.  I’ll let you know when I’ve found some.

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