When I started this blog, I intended it to be about life with 3 kids. Full stop. A kind of Mummy-blog I suppose (although I’ve never really been into writing a lot about Mummy stuff).
Anyway, the passage of time turned this into something else – an obsessive journey of trying for another baby. A chronicle of secondary infertility.
And incredibly, the support I found in blogging about this journey was more of a comfort to me than people could be in my real life.
In all honesty, this blog has kept me going, given me a better perspective and enabled me to clear my head of thoughts over and over again.
And of course, on that journey I have met many, many other women going through their own struggle to conceive.
So now, as I sit here hoping and praying that this really is it, that I might actually get a chance at being a mum of three, I feel something else.
For every blog I’ve commented on, for every time I’ve encouraged someone else through dark days, through every moment of this journey, I now feel I have somehow betrayed their trust.
I know, rationally, that this is not true, but I also know how I have felt about other people leaving the circle of infertility and moving on.
I admit, on rare occasions, I have stopped following people who moaned about their pregnancy after struggling for so long. I admit that I have skipped over scan photos because it was too difficult for me to share the joy. I admit I have felt envy for other people’s success in the face of my own failure.
It is hard.
And now, I am upset that I can’t magic everybody pregnant right now, just so we can all share the ride.
I want to apologise, in advance, for posting so much about this part of the journey, which for me hasn’t even started, but that on a daily basis is going to amaze and distract me from everything else in life, and that I completely understand if you just skip past all my posts because they are just too annoying.
I probably would too.