“Come on, Tara, when are you gonna start having kids?” This was said to me recently on a night out. I try to laugh it off, most of the time, but this time I sort of blurted it out that things don’t seem to be quite working as they should and so it could be never. I realise they were just trying to help, but they continued on about their friend who has had IVF and I had to look away, trying to not cry. A good friend who I was sitting next to grabbed my knee supportively, but it didn’t really help. People ask it a lot, and then when there’s the pause before answering, there’s an air of uncomfortableness and embarrassment on their part, because they sense that something is up. Apologies are said and that’s that. And I always say “Oh, it’s fine. We’re just, you know, having some issues and tests and that”, trying to say it as upbeat as I can. Sometimes I can pull it off, sometimes I can’t.
I always remember thinking that everyone was so worried about unplanned pregnancy that planning a pregnancy that doesn’t happen seemed to get sort of lost. I always had a worry that I could never fall pregnant, never have a child. And that is what seems to be happening. I kind of foresaw this, I guess. I’m like Mystic Meg only less boss-eyed and fucking mental.
“Oh don’t be silly, it’ll happen”
Well it hasn’t, has it?
“You could try IVF”Do you know the criteria of what is required for IVF? (I’m classed as morbidly obese so I need to sort my weight out first – and I am doing, just not quick enough. The cut off point for IVF is 39 years and 11 months so I have enough time, but it’s not quick enough for me)
“My mother got pregnant well into her 40s”Good for her. I’d sooner not have to wait that long.
“There’s always adoption”There is. And this has been looked into, fully, but yet again, the fact that I’m a massive great big fat mess means that’s a no-no. (Not a never, though…)
I know these things are said with care and love, but when you hear them so often, they can grate.
I feel defective. Women have babies all over the place, all the time. And I can’t. I feel like a massive failure due to not being able to do what seemingly nearly every woman can.
I’ve never admitted this before, but there are times that I feign illness to get out of events where I know there are going to be loads of kids because I feel like I can’t face it. To my friends reading this, I’m sorry. It’s me, entirely. It’s all me. But I can only do so much, or I can only act along so far before I want to cry. Obviously this has only happened once or twice but sometimes, just sometimes, I need to be alone and not think about anything kid related.
I’ve touched on this previously in other posts about being broody, I never realised the desire for children was so strong. It’s such a force; it’s overwhelming and can sometimes become all encompassing.
David and me sometimes joke about just getting a dog and having done with the idea of babies. Then we mock argue over what kind of dog (obvs, it’d be a greyhound, he reckons a collie), and that helps. And we laugh and joke about it together, but sometimes we sit and cry and hold one another about it because it just seems so fucking unfair.
Tests and appointments are being undergone and attended. I’m on a stupid extreme diet to show I can lose weight so I may be considered for gastric surgery (recommended by a fertility doctor), but everything is taking too long. I know I have to be patient; hell we’ve waited long enough. A little longer probably won’t hurt, will it?