I'm doing 26 things
..for anyone’s sake and I will not be dictated to about what I should and shouldn’t feel. I FEEL. I don’t give a shit if it’s stressful for other people when I’m upset at their baby’s birthday party. They should try walking a mile in my shoes before they suggest that I am making other people uncomfortable. I don’t give a flying FUCK. Having a nephew is not the same for me as having a family of my own, especially when faced with the very real possibility that this will never happen. I do not wind myself up – I cry when put into stressful, triggering situations, and I took myself outside to do it. What do you want me to do, swallow the pain, grin and bear it until it’s cancer, to save the feelings of others, when my own feelings are crushed month upon month and day upon day, and there are reminders of my loss on every street, in every supermarket trolley seat, in the belly of every other woman except my own? My feelings of pain at my infertility are as valid as a parent’s feelings of joy at being a parent and you don’t see them hiding those for the sake of other people, do you?
And so begins cycle 38, in fury at my ignorant, impossible family and floods of tears. Honestly, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
