You Know What?



That’s what this feeling is. That’s what I’m feeling. I just want to be really, really good at something.

40 years is enough time to be good at something.

And although I have done lots of things – travel, study, live abroad, work abroad, had a career, had another career, tiled a bathroom, had writing published, run a couple of blogs, lived alone, got married, had kids, tried every hobby and activity going, I’m not really an expert on any of it.

That’s what I’m feeling. I’m 40. There should be something I am really good at. Right??

I am the archetypal jack-of-all-trades.

I can do lots and lots of things reasonably well. I get to a moderate level without too much trouble, but I can’t do anything really well.

And losing pregnancy after pregnancy is not helping my feelings of competence.

From competence comes confidence – scientifically proven – and that’s what I need.

I need to be good at something.

And if I can’t be good at making a baby, then I have to find something else I can be good at while I’m failing to be good at what I really want to be good at.

7 Weeks And Waiting

When I got the news at the scan I was okay. I was pretty much expecting it. But now there have been a couple of days for it to sink in, and my body still hasn’t passed this pregnancy, I’m feeling pretty shit to be honest.

A combination of very angry and very sad.

I’m taking my temp each morning, as it normally drops on the morning of the miscarriage itself. It did drop on Saturday, but since then it’s gone back up (wtf, right?) to where it was. I’m still bleeding lightly, but no pains or signs of anything happening.

The hospital didn’t offer me an ERPC (evacuation of the retained products of conception – suction removal, basically), probably because I am already bleeding. And you know me – I wouldn’t have taken it anyway. The thought of it makes me feel sick.

But, that means, as it has done before, this horrible wait while my body comes to terms with what’s happened.

And you what I can’t stop thinking about? My Dad’s text message: This 3rd child isn’t happening. And one of my (supposed?) best friend’s emails. She just wrote “Oh Rose!” and then she changed the subject. She couldn’t even bring herself to say she was sorry to hear the news. I know that she doesn’t “agree” with our decision to have another baby, but just because she doesn’t support our choice, does that mean she can’t even offer a polite condolence? My friendship with her has drifted over these last couple of years, as have others, and it makes me sad and angry that she can’t offer basic support, in spite of her own beliefs about what we choose to do.

I don’t pester her with details, or ever moan about what we’re going through. I simply tell her if we get good news, and then (obviously), I have to tell her when we get bad news. That’s all.

When I think of these two comments, my chest stings with the emotion I feel. It feels like rejection, judgement, criticism, deep inside my body cavity.


As I’ve said before (and this is why our in-laws know nothing of what goes on), bad sympathy is actually worse than no sympathy.

What I do know is if I ever get pregnant again, I won’t be saying anything about it to either of them.

So, that aside, I’m feeling really stuck, really fed up.

Whenever I go through something bad, or emotionally difficult, my response is to make a plan, change something, try a different approach, drop everything and travel for months on end (done that three times). But with TTC and pregnancy failure, it doesn’t matter what you do, you cannot ever really control it.

I find this SO hard to deal with. You can’t escape it, you can’t control it, you can’t change it.

It makes me feel powerless and it highlights my feelings of failure. Failure!! My biggest fear. Criticism and failure just about kill me every time.

I know I need to do something, but I just don’t know what.

I feel like throwing away all our possessions. Moving to Norway or something, doing something completely different. Change of scenery, change of life.

But realistically, this isn’t really something we can do. Oh, I don’t know. I’m only really typing here because it’s a release of what I’m feeling and I can’t talk to anyone about it. These thoughts tumble around in my head and I just need to let them out.

I read a story on a mc/loss board today about a lady who had 6 mcs, had chromosome testing on 3 which were bad, and was diagnosed with poor quality eggs/diminished reserve. She then had IVF and currently has a healthy pregnancy. I’ve always been so wary of IVF because I thought if my eggs were shit then surely IVF would just entail paying for another miscarriage. But maybe not. And actually – the only testing we had done showed NO abnormality on a baby boy. It was before my coeliac diagnosis and was probably an issue with my immune system/general level of health.

That’s why this pregnancy loss sucks. Because we were unlucky enough to get a defect after being gluten free.

So, as I have done for almost three years, I wait some more.

I did read that sometimes empty sacs can be reabsorbed by the body and then you get effectively a heavy period when your HCG finally drops to zero. Maybe that’s what is happening. I have a repeat scan on January 2nd, so will find out then at the latest if nothing happens in the interim.

Today, I just wish I was better at everything. Turning 40… it makes you look back on what you’ve achieved and wonder if you could have done it better or differently. And of course, I couldn’t have done anything other than what I did, but with hindsight I can see more clearly where I could have made better choices. Where I’ve wasted time, had false starts, and given up when perhaps I shouldn’t have. I have no regrets, but I do feel that I should have something more to show for 40 years of life. I don’t even know exactly what, but something.

I know that comparing yourself to others is a losers game, but when I do compare myself to others – the other mums I know, the other friends I have that are my age – I seem less grounded, less organised. We’re still on our first property and my earnings are zero despite my earning potential and the fact that I have two degrees.

I feel like we’re still trying to get 30 right, ten years on.

I feel like I’ve got to 40 before I should have.

101 Days Until I’m 40

We’ve arranged our first EVER overnight babysitting. My in-laws are driving two hours to stay at our house and one of the main reasons I can JUST ABOUT trust someone else with my children is that for the most part, they will be in school and preschool, so it’s only pick-up, feeding, bedtime and drop off that needs doing.

I don’t know why I have such trust issues (actually, I do: it’s because of the depression, psychosis, and total lack of normality in my own family).

But at least now the boys are bigger (and can tell me all about what goes on), I feel a little less like I have to BE THERE FOR EVERY SECOND IN CASE SOMETHING HAPPENS TO THEM.

Which means we have booked a very nice suite in a spa hotel, and dinner at a very posh restaurant. And in the day time I’m going to find some kind of activity that we can do (all less than an hour’s drive from home, of course, in case I need to rush back).

I am actually looking forward to it.

I also have a cream, beaded, strapless dress that I’d like to wear (oh it is just so lovely!), but at the moment I’m still too chubby round the middle from pregnancy to get back into it.

However – I’m still exercising every week (and loving it, weirdly), so I’m hoping to drop just enough weight to get back into that dress – and if I don’t, I’m going to buy myself a lovely new one anyway ;-).

I thought about parties, and friends and whatnot, but at the end of the day, what I really want to do (and given it’s my 40th, that’s what it’s all about), is spend the day doing something super-relaxing and gratifyingly indulgent with my husband. I think having finally accepted that I am introvert and that’s OK, I don’t feel the need to impress everyone by having a massive party for my 40th birthday.

For the second half of my life, I intend to be a lot truer to myself than I have for the first half of my life.

Hurrah for turning 40!

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