I haven’t posted on here in over a year. I got busy and tired. I must say that the optimism that I held last year has no way followed me through to this year.
Shortly after my last post, my husband and me decided to move back to our home town, to move in with my in-laws so that we could save for a house. Things started to go down hill from here.
I was rejected from 4 jobs and told some cruel things like I was unemployable because I was no longer an NQT. The silver lining to this was that on my 5th job interview, I landed the job that I work in now. At first I hated it but now, I can honestly say that I think I prefer it to the job that I was in. I love the people and I love the environment.
But I didn’t know this at the time. In September hating the job, just started a spiral.
In January 2017, I knew that I wanted a baby, that I was ready to have a baby. I was desperate but my husband wanted our own house before we started trying and we were going to Mexico which carried the risk of contracting the Zika virus. We couldn’t risk it. We wanted a healthy baby and we were advised by the nurse that we were unable to conceive until 6 months after our trip. We went in August 2017. That meant February 2018.
Our baby making plans were put on hold until February 2018. I was devastated but I understood. Until my brother-in-law got a girl pregnant. It hurt. Why did they deserve a baby when we didn’t?
Moving in with my in-laws in July 2017 made it worse. I was around a baby all the time from September. In the October, I was diagnosed with depression. I continually felt as if I walked around in a perpetual cloud of grey bleakness. Nothing was worthwhile and people who I once had solid relationships with, I was pushing away. I just didn’t want to interact with anybody. I felt alone. I know that I was wrong. My husband was a continuous rock that never once faltered in affection, love or compassion. No matter how erratic I became, my husband stayed firm.
Another positive of that year was buying our house and moving in in December. I moved away from my in-laws and the baby and I was beginning to feel better.
January and February flew by.
In January, I came off the pill. February 4th saw my first period and by the 28th February, we were able to start trying for a baby with no risk of the zika virus.
March I found out I was pregnant. April I found out I had miscarried. 5 weeks my baby was with me and then suddenly my baby was gone. I don’t believe in God. I’m not religious but I am choosing to believe that my baby is somewhere watching over me. To some my baby won’t even count, after all squidge was only 5 weeks in development but they were my baby. I couldn’t wait to hold their hand, smell their skin, hear their cry. I had wanted my baby for over a year and it was taken away from me.
I know this post isn’t cheerful or optimistic but I want people to know who are suffering that they are not alone. You may not know me, you don’t know my name, you don’t know what I look like but I am here. I am here to listen to you, to hear your story and feel your pain. If you need to cry, I am here for that too because I know the importance of having people, of hearing their stories and I know how much it helped me to have someone to listen with an unbiased ear and hear their stories.
If you get anything from this post, it’s that I am suffering but I am still here. I am still trying. It’s that life can be cruel and right now, I am going through my storm but I am still holding out for my rainbow. In more ways than one.
Mrs S x