When things trip you up, pick yourself up because God hasn’t quite finished, sometimes you have to stand up becuase he wants to kneecap you. I knew kitty was also in the throws of ttc, except for some insane reason I though I might be first. Except I’m not and now she’s got the bfp that I’ve been praying for since before her third arrived. She deserves it, it’s what she wants, but right now my reaction is reactive and unfair to certain people. I feel terrible for even writing it here, but this is my blog and is meant to be total honesty. My reaction? That was MY bfp. It’s not fair. And overall it’s just made this underlying anger at Mr T bubble up – why the hell did he not pay attention when I asked him not to go for the op post mini midget. I know that right now he feels terrible about it, and that me resenting him does nothing to help the situation, but I need to let it out and here is the place. Maybe I didn’t make myself clear back then, but I thought I told him quite clearly at the time that it felt wrong, in fact I clearly remember the night before being in tears and telling him it felt like we were doing something awful and akin to a termination. I resent having to go through this. I really resent the fact that the doctors are happy to send a man in his early 20s to have the op but when they see a distressed couple begging for them to reverse what they did their response is tough. There’s no money for that. Find a friend with a turkey baster. I resent that having found a donor, we can’t make it work because my body is stupid and refuses to do the job it’s made for.
I found a load of distraction this evening playing with the cameras with a friend. But we’re heading towards night time and I’m going back to the joys of laying in the dark with these thoughts in my head. Sometimes I wish the drugs did work and I could just be stoned out of my tree and not be aware of anything for a while.
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