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Things are generally well in barren-land (as my ex-husband regularly and eloquently puts it) at the moment.
I’ve healed surprisingly well from my op, given the havoc in my insides, and we are looking forward to a wonderful, lazy summer holiday.
I’ve received so many different responses to these articles, including the recurring theme of thanks that I’m willing to speak out about all the grizzlies that the process of menopause (and eventual hysterectomy) brings.
I feel that if one person feels less alone because of my ramblings, it’s a job well done.
The other point is of course that problems that only affect women are not discussed openly, and how are we supposed to normalize something if it’s buried?
So. Even though there are no complaints, things creep up occasionally, and if I can’t speak up about them here, then where?
On Saturday evening I went to my baby sister’s birthday party, which is always a lot of fun. She is now in the age group where everyone has babies.
I remember loving that shift in my own group of friends, it was a lot of fun to observe all the new moms and their adorable littlies. A woman undergoes the most amazing change when she holds her baby, and I love watching.
So there I was with these young moms and their beautiful babies, and an ache took hold of me: I worship my own children, I walked a difficult path to have them, and I know I’m done, but I couldn’t stop the thought:
"This fucking blows". It blows. All of it. The universe sending me someone amazing, and then just also drawing a line before I could possibly dream of anything more. Even though I don’t want more. Urgh. I don’t know.
For once I have no answer to this, other than just soldiering on. I’ve grieved for my lost babies, and through that experience I am well aware that the pain becomes more bearable, and it certainly won’t end me.
The other wonderful thing that arose from all this is that I genuinely feel called to work with children, and I want to investigate that in the next year. If I can’t have my own, I will most certainly love everyone else’s!
Don’t ever lose hope on the bad days, they are not forever. Allowing the thoughts, talking about them and working through them, seems to be the only real way of coping, growing and moving forward.
We’re all allowed our bad days and moments. It’s how we grow.
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