Here we go again…

A fresh influx of pregnancies. Like buses. They come in droves. Only you don’t wait so long between droves. It is pretty much a constant stream. I guess it is the dangers of social media. And being 38. A time when your social circles have babies deliberatly, not the surprises that come when you’re in your 20’s. It’s everywhere. An epidemic. One I am immune to. Though I’m not, I’ve proved I’m not. But I may as well be.

You try and accept it, after all there is literally no getting away from it. But man, how can you accept something that comes so easily for billions of people worldwide? “Just deal with it” right? “Stop being so jealous and bitter”, “It’s been two years” –  Don’t make me laugh.

Give me the potion, the antidote. I’ll drink it.

You think I like this? Unless I am some kind of masochist (which I can demonstrably tell you I am not) I would have this ‘curse’ (for want of a better word) removed by any means possible. The curse of needing a rainbow, my rainbow

Fuck, that term is really grating on me now. “A rainbow after the storm”.


It is utter bullshit. There is no rainbow. There is no baby to hold. When your body is screaming, dying inside, hurting, burning to finally hold that beautiful new born. something that almost everyone (it seems) takes for granted, you’re to just ‘move on’.

“You’ve got two children already!” – Right, because they mean nothing to me? I’m to ‘get over myself’ because I have two already. So the same goes to those who have two already and have another, and another, and so on. They should be told to stop breeding and ‘move on’ because they already have two children? Because they should be grateful they have two already so can’t possibly ever have that primal all consuming urge that takes over their entire life. That’s right, people with two children, you shouldn’t want anymore. EVER. Maybe we should become a nation like China when they used to force people to stop at two. Yeah? That worked out well didn’t it.

I should be grateful because some people can’t have any children. Trust me, I have been there. I was told I would be unlikely to have my own children due to my fucked up reproduction system – I can’t even begin to tell you how that felt from the point of view of someone who wanted children ever since they could talk. I’ve been there thank you. I am eternally grateful that I have my two boys. They are the air that I breath.

Trying desperately to have a child when every man and his dog are conceiving at the drop of a contraceptive pill. Those feelings are back with a vengeance.

How can you survive after two losses, when your body is screaming inside? Screaming at you to have that final child. It bellows at you everytime you see a pregnant woman, and everytime you hear of a new pregnancy. Ovaries banging against my insides, absolutely furious with me.

My womb is raging at me. It punishes me.

The familiar symptoms…

The constant metal taste in the mouth, the exhaustion, the ‘implantation bleed’, the unquenchable thirst that can only be sated (for a bit) by orange juice, the larger appetite – hoovering food, the cravings, my nails growing, the friend telling me “you look really well”, body changes… They are all there, poking fun at me. And like a complete novice, I start to believe them! Even though it is physically impossible for my dream to actually come true, unless I screw up everything I have and love and live another life – but this is not an option for me. I am deluded. My mind has made everything up just to torture me even further. The mean child in the playground, kicking me down and laughing at me. I am sure my womb and ovaries find this hilarious.

I get up, Brush myself off. Prepare myself for the next pregnancy announcement that isn’t mine. Because you can pretty much guarantee that it is coming. Another one, probably only minutes away from The Big Announcement. Another person with the one thing that will bring me sunshine again.

Don’t get me wrong, I have bouts of sunshine. Those moments where I forget my pain for a while. I live for those moments. Like when I wake up in the morning, and forget everything for a few seconds. Or those dreams where I have my baby. Or those moments when I’m spending quality time with my family, providing we are not anywhere near a pregnancy – much to my family’s despair.

Yeah, I’m still jealous and bitter two years later. I am holding my hands up. I am sure I am totally unreasonable. At least, I know there are people who think I am.  I can’t pretend, and I am not going to fight it anymore. I am human, and I have thoughts and I have desires, and I have the daily torture. I’d much rather be the pregnant one looking out at someone in my position. So before you judge that bitter and jealous person, think about the demons that are running through their veins, something that can’t be changed without that one thing that comes so naturally to the human race.

They are hurting every single day.

And if it is you that is hurting every single day, I have you in my heart. And I have no remedy, only solidarity.






3 thoughts on “Here we go again…

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    1. Wow! That’s really fascinating. Thank you for that. What I found particular interesting was the findings around getting pregnant easier in late 30’s/early 40’s. This is exactly what happened to me. I struggled for a long time to conceive my eldest boys (in my late 20’s) but my last two babies were conceived very quickly. Thank you again Kitty.


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