I've been sad. I've been angry. I've been lonely and bored. I've lacked direction.
Grieving the loss of "Squirmy" and then taking a break from TTC (as DH prepares for professional exams) has been one of the most difficult times of my life.
Oh, and it coincided with Christmas. The time when people say, "Christmas is all about the children" and gather around the two newborns in my family. Even the sermon at church on Christmas Eve was entitled "Christmas is for the children". Sure the point was that the birth of Jesus is for all people, at all times, and in all places, but never have I heard the words baby, birth and pregnancy so many times during a church service. Ouch! I prefer Easter, which our pastor described as the "adult themed holiday" - with violence, torture, lies, tears and jeers, and murder, rather than tinsel, toys and Christmas trees.
As I re-read what I've written I realise I sound hard and cynical. I'm really not. I prefer Easter because of the great sacrifice Jesus made for me. I prefer it because it is not as over-commercialised as Christmas so I enjoy it for the beautiful simplicity of its message. Salvation. Just beautiful.
Now I realise I'm just rambling. There is no TTC to talk about. By mid-February DH will have finished his exams and we'll start our second IVF, hoping that our eggs will defrost ok. I've ordered books about endometriosis so I can learn all I can about our only diagnosis. One of them is a therapeutic diet that I'm interested in trying.
I'm slowly coming back. I've missed my TTC friends.
#Microblog Monday 512: Skants and Aprons
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