If you read back through this blog you’d be forgiven for thinking that there isn’t much that I won’t write about and that I don’t share. And yes, whilst I do self edit and definitely make sure that I keep my work life away from this blog, I do write about anything and everything that is going on.
Except there is one gaping hole that I haven’t written about here and that I’ve struggled to know how to write about.
Some of you may know that we’ve always wanted to have a third child.
Some of you may know that we’ve been not not trying for a while.
Some of you may know that we’ve been really trying for a while.
And it hasn’t happened yet.
Despite me throwing all the usual things at it – taking temperature every day, peeing on ovulation predictor sticks, checking mucus, getting acupuncture. Doing the things that have worked the last two times. And doing them for rather a lot of months.
I have written various posts that I haven’t published about the way that my hopes have got up each month, only to drop right down a few days later. There have been months where I have been absolutely certain that it had worked.
But it hadn’t.
But I’ve felt a bit funny about sharing this writing about angst about not conceiving.
In a way it doesn’t seem right to dwell on it not happening when we already have two lovely girls.
If we didn’t manage to conceive I have a lovely family, yes a family smaller than I have dreamt of but still a lovely family.
And there are so many people who struggle to even have one baby, let alone the two that I already have. So in some ways writing about this and my feelings when another month passes feels indulgent and unfair. And worse, potentially hurtful to people reading it.
But it doesn’t take away from the fact that it feels as if there is a space in our family waiting for a small person to fill it. Not a big or a defined space but a space nonetheless.
And whilst I should just shrug my shoulders and get on with life and have this just ticking away in the background I am finding it hard to do that.
It takes some dedication to take temperatures and be stuck all over with needles, I am trying very hard to make this baby.
And yet perhaps my body, my useless defective, failing body knows that it is not a good idea and is carefully making sure that this won’t happen.
Perhaps at some point I’ll draw a line under the baby part of my life and move on, perhaps I need to focus on the blessings I have, but not yet, not for a little while.
Please bear with me – not writing about this is something I can’t do I’m afraid and I don’t want to hurt anyone but writing about it puts these things into perspective for me.
p.s. those are ovulation predictor sticks not pregnancy tests and they’re not mine