Baby Mad…

Dear Baby Mad,

You don’t exist, and perhaps you never will.

You don’t really have a name either, but in my head I call you lots of names.

Lately I’ve really been liking Amelie. Or Noah, if you were a boy.

I’d love to give you a middle name, either Joyce, after my beautiful Nan, or Frederick, after my wonderful Grandad.

I imagine what you’d look like.

I imagine my Dad, who would be your Grandad, holding you, the proudest he’s ever been.

I imagine bathing you and dressing you and snuggling you silly, even when you wake me up at all hours in the night and I think I can’t take much more of your incessant wailing for food (because, let’s face it baby mad, you’re a product of me and your Dad, and our favourite thing is to eat!)

I imagine all of the adventures we’ll have, and that special Mummy time nobody else will get because I’ll be on maternity leave and it’ll just be me and you.

For most of my life, little one, you’ve been my priority, and you only exist in my mind.

I get up and go to work for you.

I bought this house for you.

Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.

I have never met you, you don’t exist, but I love you.

I already know that I love you.

Just like I always knew that I’d love your Daddy when I eventually met him.

If it’s even at all possible, I love you even more than your Daddy, because I know you would be a perfect blend of both of us.

It’s very hard at the moment, baby Mad, because it feels like you will never exist and it feels like we will never get to meet you.

It feels as though I will never get to hold you in my arms and tell you, the real you, not the you that exists in my mind, how much your Mummy (and Daddy) love and adore you.

So many times you have saved my life, when you aren’t a life yourself.

How can something feel so real when it doesn’t exist?

I already know I love you.

I already know I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.

So why aren’t you here?

Why do you have to exist only in mind?

Why can’t I grow you and keep you safe until you’re ready to come into our little world?

Why can’t you be asleep in your cot in your bedroom, instead of it being a room full of pointless junk your mummy bought to try to make herself feel better?

Why can’t you distract me from writing this now because you’re giggling or whinging or snoring or crying because you need food or your nappy changing?

Baby Mad I love you, please become a reality

When there’s no hope left…

I am writing this whilst sitting in my (parked) car in the Trafford Centre car park sobbing my eyes out and wondering when my life went so wrong.

I have completely lost all hope and have no idea when or if I’ll get through this.

Throughout everything that happened last year and the year before I held on to the hope that 2017 was going to be the best year ever. I mean, why wouldn’t it be?! After all, our wedding is in 2017 and that’s supposed to be the happiest most amazing day of your life.

Only the wedding is a week away and I’ve never felt so lost, hopeless and miserable in my entire life.

I didn’t think I could ever feel this low.

I always liked to think I was a good person, but for my karma to be this bad I clearly can’t be a good person.

I’ve always tried my best. Tried my best to be a good friend, daughter, sister, cousin, partner. Tried my best to fight the good fight. Only all that the world throws at me is shit.

I saw something online the other day that said when the world wants to give you a happy life it first makes you strong. Well I call bullshit on that.

and I’m also saying I give up. The world has thrown literally everything it can at me and now I officially surrender.

This year, so far, I’ve had to deal with a HUGE issue that I’m not even allowed to discuss, leaving my job (which, for the most part, I loved and actually gave me a purpose), trying (and failing) to care for my chronically ill fiancé who now, a week before our wedding, is in so much pain he can’t get out of bed, infertility (only been going through that for a year and didn’t realise how much of a failure it makes you feel), getting into an almighty scrape in my beautiful car and gouging the whole left hand side of it, endometriosis and pain returning, being manipulated and fucked over by so many people I’ve lost count…the list goes on…

I made that post last week in the hope that my message to the universe about wanting a simple, happy life would be heard. So much for that…

tell me, what do you do when there’s no hope left?

Just to make things clear…

Hi world.

Just so we’re clear and things aren’t misunderstood, here’s a little bit about me.

I’m a 25 year old trapped in a mind (and body) that is much much older and definitely a lot more mature.

For the best part of ten years, all I’ve wanted is to fall in love, get married, and have a family.

For the past nearly fifteen years, all I’ve wanted to do is teach. Just teach. Inspire young minds and show them that they can be successful and they can make a difference in the world. (Yes, that same world that has fucked me over so many times I’ve lost count.)

I don’t feel my hopes, dreams and ambitions are all that great.

I don’t think it’s such a massive thing to want to be left alone to live the life I so desperately want to live.

Why is it that people always try to destroy this for me?

I don’t want much, nor do I ask for much.

I don’t want to be rich or famous or even massively successful in my field.

I don’t want to be in charge of my own school and take all of the credit for everyone else’s hard work.

I just want to be me.

I want to be ‘Miss’ when I’m at work, and be the best teacher I can possibly be, and I want to be ‘wife’ and ‘mum’ when I’m at home, and, again, be the best wife and mummy I can possibly be.

Is this really too much to ask?

Is this really too much to desire?

Apparently so.

The other day Mr Mad said to me he thinks maybe sometimes people try to destroy my happiness (or, as recent events have clearly shown, destroy my life) because they don’t know me that well. Maybe he’s right, but I feel I’ve had to put up a strong, confident front to get through everything that life has thrown at me so far. I don’t want people to see that I’m incredibly sensitive and vulnerable as I’m scared they’ll take advantage of that. Only, it appears that was a stupid tack to take, as people have tried, and are still trying, to destroy my life regardless.

So this is my message, to the universe, in the hope that someday someone will come along and actually understand and realise that I come in peace.

That I don’t want your job.

That I don’t want your family.

I don’t want your happiness or your success or your things.

I don’t want or need anything of yours and I certainly don’t need to destroy you, who you are and what you have.

All I want is to live in my little house at the bottom of the grove with my wonderful husband, my gorgeous cats and (if I’m very very lucky) two beautiful children.

That is literally all I want.

What I need is a decent job to support that, and that’s what I’ve spent the past ten years trying to achieve.

I hated school.

Hated it.

I never managed to fit in and everybody was horrible to me.

I was beaten up several times, I had lighters held to my head on the bus home, I had food thrown at me, I was spat at, called a ridiculous amount of disgusting and horrible names and was constantly told I would amount to nothing.

Throughout all of that, as an awkward, self-conscious teenager, I tried my best to stay strong.

I tried my best to keep my head down and study and come out with the best exam results I possibly could so I could start on the path to forging my own future.

In the middle of my GCSEs my Grandad, my wonderful, amazing, kind-hearted, perfect Grandad got seriously ill.

I still didn’t miss a day of school.

I still went in and I worked and worked and then I went to the hospital.

Every night.

I sat with my Grandad, while he was in his hospital bed, going over past papers and revising.

A week after I finished my last exam he was gone.

That was it.

He never even got to see me get my GCSE results (which were, as he predicted, fantastic, particularly my A in Maths that I’d struggled to get, and that he’d tutored me for for months upon months).

But I did it.

I still did it.

I stayed strong.

I learnt how to live without one of the most important men in my life.

I carried on.

I went to sixth form.

I studied for my A-Levels.

I applied to, and subsequently was accepted, into my first choice university to study English.

I still carried on.

All because I had my end goal in sight….

This image of a beautiful little family with a man I adored.

Not because I wanted to “be the best”.

Not because I wanted “what she has” or “what he has”.

No, because I just wanted my own little quiet life.

I got a job in the first year of uni so I could afford to save a little money and move out of home for a bit of freedom.

I met the love of my life there – he’s the man I marry in two and a half weeks’ time.

He’s even more than I ever dreamed of and I still count my lucky stars every day that throughout all of the crap that has been thrown at us, we have always managed to get through it together.

Yes, we have had times where we have had ‘breaks’ in our relationship, where neither of us could see another way through other than to be apart.

Yes, on the occasion where we were apart for 6 months we both had relationships with other people.

We’re not perfect, shit happens.

But we’ve never cheated.

We’ve never done anything disgustingly bad to each other, because we both have respect.

Why do so many people lack in that nowadays?

We’ve been back together for 3 years now, and when we get married in February, I know it will be forever. 

We’ve gone through losing two babies now (others may think differently and may believe they weren’t ‘real’ babies, but that’s how I feel and I won’t apologise for mourning the loss of our pregnancies).

We’ve gone through losing my amazing Nan, almost two years ago.

He, Mr Mad, has picked me up from rock bottom more times than I can count.

He’s wonderful and what we have is wonderful.

I don’t need what anybody else has because I have something amazing myself.

I also choose not to go on and on about how wonderful I think my husband-to-be is because I don’t want people to think I am bragging.

THAT IS WHY I HARDLY EVER TALK ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP.

That’s another thing nobody seems to understand.

Just because I am an otherwise chatty person does not mean I am not private.

Nobody apart from my family and very closest friends know half of the shit I have been through, and there’s a reason for that.

Even now, even when I’m writing such a very deep and personal post, there are things I just won’t ever discuss.

I don’t understand how people have got me so wrong.

All I want, and need, in my life is my husband and my family.

That’s it.

So tell me why would anybody be so cruel as to try to ruin that for me?

What is it that I’ve done to deserve such horrible, vindictive, disgusting things being thrown at me?

I’m such a big champion of honesty and the truth, why aren’t other people?

Why do people believe lies even when it goes against everything else they’ve ever felt and known to be true?

Anyway, I’ve digressed.

I just can’t really believe or understand what is happening to my life right now.

This was supposed to be the happiest year of our lives.

We get married in two and a half weeks.

Instead of being excited and looking forward to it, we’re facing so much uncertainty and horrific times, all because of a few individuals.

We should be looking forward to our future.

We should be taking our steps that bit closer to having our longed-for child.

We should be enjoying our new house and be spending quality time together.

So, world, universe, please understand, I’m Mrs-Mad-to-be and I just want a quiet, simple life.

Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Hope is being able to see there is light despite all of the darkness…

I’m here.

Just about.

I really really miss writing (well, blogging) so I’m tentatively poking my big toe back into the word press water.

That was a pretty good metaphor… even if I do say so myself! (Typical English teacher! Always has to analyse everything that’s written down!)

I honestly don’t know where to start… and I actually doubt anyone has really been wondering where I’ve been for the past couple of months, as the state of mind I was in when I wrote my last blog post made things very clear.

There’s not a lot I actually can talk (or write) about. It’s a long story that I will probably never be able to tell to anybody asides from the one person in the world who is closest to me (that being, Mr Mad, of course).

Speaking of Mr Mad, we are exactly 29 days away from our wedding!

That time has gone by so so quickly, I can hardly believe that in less than a month I am going to officially become Mrs Mad!!

I wish things were better at the moment.

Not with Mr Mad and I, that, thanks to him being the world’s loveliest, most supportive partner, is the only thing that’s going right in my life currently.

The endometriosis is rearing its head… or, rather, creeping back in and trying to take over my body again.

I honestly wouldn’t wish this illness on anybody.

Well, maybe the person or people who are…. I’d better stop there, for fear of repercussions, you never know who might be digging or lurking for things that don’t even exist…

Anyway, today has consisted of mostly lying on the sofa under a blanket with a hot water bottle.

Now I am in bed, for a change of scenery, propped up with a gazillion pillows,  and a hot water bottle with a half-consumed cuppa resting on it.

Some people may think that’s an awesome way to spend a day… but, for me, it isn’t.

I’m struggling with pain.

It was this time last year that I really really began to struggle with pain, which I later (6 whole months later) found out was severe, stage 3 endometriosis. I know this because an old Facebook status came up on my Timehop yesterday, where I was complaining about deferred pain.

I’m starting to realise that I may never have what I consider to be a ‘normal’ life ever again.

This illness… it’s got me… despite the fact that I constantly try to fight back, it has me in its grips and it will never fully let go…. I will never be fully rid of it.

For the past couple of weeks I have had hope…

I have had hope that things will get better.

I have had hope that all of the darkness in my life (and I say all of, because there is an awful, awful lot of darkness in my life right now) will somehow lift and things will be right again.

Today, mainly because of the endo flare up, I am mostly in agony, feeling incredibly negative and rather tearful.

I know life isn’t fair.

I get that… it’s actually something I’ve only recently started to properly understand and accept.

But what I can’t get on board with at the moment is why, when things are just starting to improve for someone and their life seems to be going okay for once, somebody comes along and tries to destroy that for them…. tell me, what kind of person would do that?

It’s taking all of my effort, currently, to not become a total recluse and never leave the house.

And I actually mean never leave the house… not just what I’ve been doing recently, which is only leaving the house to attend therapy, pain-relief clinic at the doctors and reflexology. Let’s face it, that’s not much of a life as it is, really, is it?

Gosh… I actually planned for this post to be hopeful and full of positivity, as I’m really trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel and the hope in amongst everything that is going on right now… evidently the darkness in my life is too great at the moment.

It’s very lonely being stuck in the house on your own all day everyday.

It gives you an awful lot of time to think.

To think, and to draw conclusions.

Currently, there are two big question marks over two things I need answers to and I need to draw conclusions on, but can’t seem to.

  1. What do I do if I never have the blessing of a child?
  2. What do I do if I can never teach again?

Answers on a postcard….

 

 

just kidding!

 

hope

Tell me it gets better…

Tell me this empty feeling goes away.

Tell me the tears, the agony and the heart break fade.

Tell me my heart will slow down enough for me to breathe properly.

Tell me I will be able to eat properly again.

Tell me I will be able to pick myself and dust myself off before tomorrow so I can go into work and I don’t lose my job for having too much time off.

Tell me people will stop telling me “if it’s meant to be it will be” and “one day you will have a baby” and “no doctor has officially told you you’re infertile and can’t have children”.

Tell me one day this huge house will be filled with the tears and laughter of a child we created out of love.

Tell me one day this pain will end and I will be happy again.

Tell me it gets better…

please tell me it gets better…

How can you be sad over something that never existed?

chemical-pregnancy-was-actually-a-very-early-miscarriage

I don’t know where to begin.

I haven’t posted in a long, long time, as it wasn’t giving me the same cathartic feeling as it once did.

It’s hard.

So fucking hard.

I feel trapped inside my head constantly and am struggling to release any of that stress, tension and pressure.

This week has been one of the shittiest weeks of my life.

My life had been ticking over, I guess you could say, for a number of months.

Back to work, start of new school year, lead up to wedding, hen cruise (which was a bit of a disaster in itself, and seemed to matter at the time but is pale in significance after the events of this week), moved into our dream house etc etc.

Been off anti-depressants for 8 whole weeks now.

No strong painkillers.

Exercising regularly.

Eating well.

Doing. everything. I. am. supposed. to. be. doing.

BAM

Period 1 week late.

Cue excitement (stupidly) from me and a rush to take a pregnancy test.

Faint line.

It’s okay… leave a day or two, test again. Don’t get hopes up. Mustn’t get hopes up. Will only be a few weeks pregnant at most. Don’t get excited.

Do.

not.

get.

excited.

Wednesday rolls around.

Test again.

Faint line is stronger than last time.

Must be a positive.

GOT TO BE A POSITIVE!

Excited and crying happy tears.

Tell Mr Mad.

He is his usual sceptical self.

But I know, I mean, I know, I am pregnant. I can tell. Because, you just know, don’t you?

Friday, 3am.

Wake up in the most agony I’ve been in since before my surgery, when my endo was at its worse.

Go to bathroom.

Blood everywhere.

Then I knew….

even if I had been pregnant, I definitely wasn’t anymore.

I lay on my kitchen floor (my gorgeous, so-shiny-you-can-see-your-face-in-it black kitchen floor, in my dream house, our dream house, our family home) for an hour sobbing my heart out.

How could this happen?

How could life be so cruel to me, to us?

How could Mr Mad still be asleep when my entire world is crumbling underneath me?

It’s not his fault. It’s my fault. As per usual everything is my fault.

I stress too much.

I work too much.

I exercise too much.

I ate too many chocolates the other night.

I had a gin and tonic to calm myself down after a particularly stressful day at work.

I’ve taken on too many extra things.

I’m rushing around too much.

ALL MY FAULT.

Except, is it?

Everybody keeps telling me that if it’s meant to be, it will be. I understand it’s to try to comfort me, but it really doesn’t help.

Never before have I experienced such lack of compassion in a hospital. Being stuck with visibly pregnant women whose partners are cooing over them when you’re in agony and bleeding is the single worse thing in the entire universe.

To know that one day, in about 4-6 months, every other woman in that waiting room would be leaving that hospital with her baby, meanwhile mine, which never really properly existed, is gone forever.

But it wasn’t really a baby, was it? How can it be after a couple of weeks.

Chemical pregnancy they call it, don’t they?

Never would’ve been a baby.

So why does it hurt so much?

Why do I keep replaying that conversation with the doctor over and over again?

“What number pregnancy was this?”

“Three”

“How many children do you have?”

“None.”

And I suppose I should be thankful that I’m still here. A little over 24 hours ago I was being rushed to hospital thinking I had an ectopic pregnancy and they were going to remove yet more of my precious reproductive parts.

But why won’t my body work properly?

What have I done that’s so awful to deserve this?

I have no hope left.

None.

All I see is 50 years, if I am that ‘lucky’, in a big empty house.

Endless holidays.

Tonnes of cats.

But still no children.

Never

any

children.

 

 

 

All is quiet on the Western (Baby) Front…

I really thought we’d managed this time. I really thought we’d finally managed to make a baby.

I mean, I still won’t be convinced until I have a proper period, which doesn’t seem to have happened yet this month.

I’m a week late.

I was sure I was pregnant.

I’d convinced myself I was.

All yesterday, in particular, I felt awful.

I felt nauseous all day and almost ruined my poor mum’s trip to Harrogate with me. I ended up having to drive us home early but I felt hopeful, because I’d convinced myself I was pregnant, so the sickness and feeling like shit was worth it.

I’ve felt like crap again today, came home and took the 3rd pregnancy test in a week.

Negative.

Again.

I just don’t know how much longer I can take this.

I feel like Mr Mad doesn’t fully understand either.

I’m sure he’d say he’s trying to understand.

But can men really ever understand?

It’s awful being a woman and not being able to do the one thing you are meant to do.

I feel like I’m losing all hope.

I’m really trying to be positive. I’ve adjusted my lifestyle. I’m off all medication, I’m exercising regularly, following a strict, clean and healthy diet and limiting my alcohol intake.

I’m taking folic acid, vitamin c, vitamin d.

I’m getting at least 8 hours sleep a night and I’m trying to minimise stress in my life.

I’m following every bit of advice I possibly can…. so WHY AM I NOT PREGNANT?!!!!

This happens by accident for so many people and yet it doesn’t seem to be happening for me on purpose.

I don’t feel like blogging anymore as I feel like I’m just being a massive whinger and there’s no need for people to have to read it and deal with it!

So yeah… in case any of you were wondering where I’d been and what’s been happening…. here’s the update in a nutshell…

I’m still not pregnant!