There, I’ve said it.

I am so fucking unhappy I can’t stand myself.

I read somewhere, damn me if I can find the link (which suggests I might have read it on paper) that less than 1% of women have three or more consecutive miscarriages. Less than 1%. Given that there are about 30 million women in Great Britain, given that about 15 to 20% of them are under the age of consent, given that most women won’t actually even be pregnant three or more times, this is probably a dumb-ass statistic best thoroughly ignored. But it still suggests that those few hundred-thousand British women (and the incalculable numbers of women world-wide) who fall into the Recurrent Miscarriage Club, are, in fact, by-and-large, women who really, really want to be pregnant. Which is why they get pregnant again. And again.

Whereas my entire family runs on the time-hallowed principle of ‘If at first you can’t succeed, pretend you never wanted to in the first place.’ ‘Try, try again,’ is simply alien to our clan psyche. We’re with Yoda. ‘Do, or do not. There is no try.’

My most predictable reaction to stress and misery is to stop sleeping. And let Bitter McTwisted and the Positive Thinking Fairy duke it out between midnight and three:

You don’t want to have kids anyway. Look what having kids did to [insert relation’s name here]’s marriage. Much better to stay childless and spend your Saturday afternoons having hot monkey sex on the living-room floor. Go back on the pill. You liked being on the pill. You could even go to work on period days and, you know, work (admittedly, it knackered your libido and drastically cut into the hot monkey sex). And anyway, you live in a pit of filth and are obsessed with ‘me-time’, books and knitting. You’d be a rubbish mother. A really rubbish mother. The sort of mother who abandons her baby in a pram at the bottom of the garden for three hours straight so she can read Baudelaire and drink Harvey Wallbangers in the bath.

Just stop now. Just stop.

You’re too chicken to get pregnant again, aren’t you? You can’t take it. You’re scared. You don’t have the guts for this. Think what [insert name of any one of a number of fine infertility bloggers here] went through. You’re pathetic. You just don’t want a kid as much as you think you do. Give up now, before you permanently derail something.

Look at you. Add one teeny weeny extra stressor to your existance (the poetry assignment) and you go to pieces. You haven’t even commented on anyone’s blog for, Scheiße, over a week? a fortnight? Have I used ‘pathetic’ already? How about really crappy friend?

And then for some reason, I’m really tired the next day and late for work and I hate work and I particularly hate the over-an-hour-each-way commute and this morning I sat down and had a little cry instead.

Does this all sound a little… ridiculous to you?

Anyway, I finished the poetry assignment and handed it in late, but I have an email from my tutor offering me extra time if I wanted it (she is being extremely kind to me, alas because she too has had the woe-bollocky-dreariness. Bastard universe). I emailed back saying yes please, so I assume that, even though I haven’t heard anything else about it, I’m safe? At least in terms of timeliness. I can’t answer for the poems. They probably exude a faint but noticeable smell of vapouring adolescent.

I think the creative writing course would be considerably more fun if I wasn’t so fucking unhappy. It’s not really cheering me up, as I had hoped. It’s just being another soul-sucking heap of crap for me to have anxiety attacks about. Which is hateful. Hateful hateful hateful. It was supposed to be my ‘all about me’, ‘let’s rejoice in May and the wonderful things she can do when she tries’ thing. Gah. GAH.

List of things to have anxiety attacks about also include:

  • dispute with the Inland Revenue over mislaid paperwork, which is going to cost me money and involve me redoing the paperwork, I just know it;
  • missing so much goddamn time at work for health reasons (not that anyone’s said anything about it, so I think this may just be me sweating one part 50% proof Catholic Guilt, one part adulterated Jewish Guilt and one part ersatz Protestant Work Ethic);
  • while we’re on work, some of my colleagues are behaving in a way I find lazy, unprofessional, and unfair on the rest of us, and I am having kittens about it because, given own massive absences and somewhat ‘phoning it in from the pool-bar’ performance lately, I am so not owning the moral high-ground, but I am being driven completely bacofoil by having to redo their work on top of my own every damn week;
  • I have a scan on Wednesday to see if the Mysterious Triune Fibroid(s) actually exist (this is going to involve more major work rearrangement shittity shittity shit). I want to be able to demand, hugely and with extreme entitlement, an exact explanation of what is in there, how many of them there are, and where, exactly, they are, because the next medico who tells me ‘fibroids are not a problem’ is going to make me cry. Submucosal fibroids are, ACTUALLY I THINK YOU’LL FIND, associated with recurrent miscarriage. No doubt because they fuck up the uterine lining they are lurking just under. So some clarity on this issue would go down charmingly;
  • I even managed to have a panic attack because this period was rather lighter than usual. You’d’ve thought this was a good thing, given my usual tendency to haemorrhage for England. But why waste an opportunity to indulge in a complete and wobbly ‘what the hell is happening‘ duvet-chewing moment;
  • Other people’s pregnancies and small babies. Am split neatly into delighted and relieved, terrified on behalf of (projecting, much?), and racked with guilt (ooh! More guilt!) because my first, fleeting instinct is to shout ‘Stop rubbing it in!’ and run away;
  • I even managed a teeny-tiny stampy-feety moment because three (anonymous, obviously) people had unsubscribed from this blog’s RSS feed on Google Reader.

I suck. The end.

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22 responses to “There, I’ve said it.

  • arminta

    YOU DO NOT SUCK!!!! You are depressed, yes. Wallowing a little even. But for the love of I-can’t-even-think-of-something you do not suck. This is such a normal, shitty, fucked up, shitty part of RPL. I am so, so, so sorry that you’re going through this. (Also, totally understand if given the current state of my affairs you totally ignore this, call me a condescending bitch or any other reaction you may have. I do get it. I also care about you and want to make sure you know it, though.)

    Fuck the Inland Revenue, fuck work, fuck other people and their miserable pregnancies and babies and double fuck the unsubscribing bastards. May is all that’s important right now. Sometimes you just need to check out for a bit from the worry and stress of everyday life and have a really good escapism based bender. This is especially true when recovering from back to back miscarriages. It will all be there when you get back.

  • Solnushka

    *Gets Bitter McTwisted into a headlock* Of course you are unhappy. You have every right to be drowning in despair. The position is shitty. Of course you don’t want to go through it again. After my _one_ experience I felt exactly the same, and I had no particular reason to fear further problems. I bet very one of the other bloggers you are comparing yourself too also went though this moment of dread. And we both know that you will continue, because you are extremely brave, and, in fact, gracious with it. And because, nonsense, Bitter McTwisted you horrible girl, you do want and thoroughly deserve a child and you will be a really really really fantastic mother.

    And of course you can’t enjoy/ cope with any of the other stresses in your life. None of it sounds ridiculous. All of it sounds natural, but I do worry, m’dear. Hugs, big hugs.

  • MFA Mama

    YOU. DO. NOT. SUCK!!!

    Really, you don’t. And I totally hear you on the “I would enjoy X more if not for Y” thing because that’s kind of the story of my life. I don’t have a good answer for that one.

    But you SO don’t suck. I ❤ you, in fact. Hang in there!

  • thalia

    You have had a patented, full-on, copper-bottomed, truly rubbish time, so OF COURSE you feel like crap. Silly woman. A wise friend of mine once said, there is no point beating yourself up about something you already feel bad about, and oh boy does that apply to you. Please stop.

    And have you thought about anti depressants? Just to take the edge off for a while? It’s so hard having to drag yourself out of bed every morning feeling like this. Sertaline is safe for use in pregnancy, in case you were wondering.

  • Heather

    Let me say it again in case it hasn’t sunk in yet.

    YOU DO NOT SUCK! NOT EVEN A TEENY TINY BIT!

  • Heather

    Let me say it again in case it hasn’t sunk in yet.

    YOU DO NOT SUCK! NOT EVEN A TEENY TINY BIT!

    Thinking of you.

  • Heather

    Yeah, I really do mean it – but I didn’t mean to post it twice.

    But I do mean it.

  • Nina

    We all love you. And we’ll still be here when you get back to yourself. You do not suck. And you have every right to scream at us not to rub it in. Been there, sweet pea. Buproprion/Wellbutrin/Zyban worked for me. It’s an antidepressant that’s also safe for pregnancy. It was like a switch flipped. Hugs, hugs, and more hugs.

  • a

    Eh, you probably suck sometimes. Everybody does. However, right now, I’m pretty sure that you are in the midst of a life crisis, so a little self-involvement is merited. You know who really sucks, every day, without fail? Coworkers.

    I would guess your unsubscribers might be those who have found some success and are in the utterly frightened stage.

    I wish I could help you ease your anxiety. I hope that the fibroids are the solution to your RPL, and their removal will fix everything.

  • L.

    Just like everyone said. You don’t suck. I had one miscarriage and it took me two years to try again. To keep trying in the face of fear and pain must take enormous amounts of strength. That doesn’t mean it was the wrong thing to do, or that it would be wrong to try again. It’s just that it’s not easy, and no wonder if you’re having a difficult time of it.

    I have heard people comment that one of the worst difficulties of infertility and related struggles is the way it turns you against your own body, feeling that it has failed you. I suppose perhaps it can be equally destructive to your relationship with your own mind and feelings, in a similar way. Whereas, honestly, it would be more than a little crazy if you weren’t miserable. –Of course, I don’t want you to be miserable, and I hope you feel less so soon (and antidepressants might be helpful in the short term, for sure).

  • Ben Warsop

    Oh my dear, you are one of the least sucky people I know. In fact, you are one of the bravest people I’ve ever come across. Everyone else has already said everything else I could say.

    We worry for you and H.

    Ben

  • manapan

    Oh, May. (((((Hugs)))))

    First, you do not suck. You are depressed, and for very good reason. To hell with the diathesis part of the diathesis-stress model — you’ve had enough stress alone to warrant some pretty serious mood disorder not-so-fun-time. You don’t need anything extra on your plate to stress you out, so if you’re not enjoying the writing course maybe you could drop it for now and rejoin later.

    Second, you are so incredibly courageous even to have kept trying this long. Look at everything you’re doing for the sake of children lost and children hoped for. That in itself is pretty good evidence that you are going to make a wonderful mother. It seems sappy, I know, but I have to tell you this: You are an inspiration to me. I hope everything starts going better for you very soon.

  • Rachel

    May, I’m so sorry. I really hope things look a bit better this weekend and that you get a little respite from all the stress.

    Sorry for being so cliche, I just don’t have your way with words.

  • Valery

    To me your blog counts as creative writing. Bonus points for you. But I want half of them back because I predicted your lighter period.

    hugs. and scarves to hide in.

  • Secret D

    You definitely don’t suck.

    You have been through such a crap time, you are bound to feel this way. It will take a long time and a lot of strength to get through this and, although I don’t know you personally, from reading your blog I know that you are strong.

    Hang on in there.

  • Teuchter

    Am nodding in fierce agreement with most of what’s already been said.
    You are dealing with one of the biggest heaps of shite ever emptied over one of the loveliest people I know. That’s what sucks – not you.

    * shakes fist at the sky – and adds a couple of two-finger flicks and a middle finger for extra emphasis

    Hugs to you both.

  • Twangy

    Amen to what the others have said. We can’t have you saying you suck. It’s just not so.
    That feeling is awful, honestly, as if things weren’t bad enough, but depression does that, it turns in on you. I HATE THAT.

    It will lift, it will. You are mighty, don’t forget.
    xxx

  • QoB

    I didn’t unsubscribe, I promise!

    Demanding INFORMATION right along with you on Wednesday. It’s your body. You should know.

    And also, really hoping the fucking unhappy phase is cope-able. soon. hugs/

  • Allison

    Hello… I just recently found your blog and I must say, you absolutely do NOT suck. In fact, I think you are incredibly honest and brave and I love your writing.

    I had a miscarriage (my first) about a month ago. Been trying for far too long. If being up all night because of terrible thoughts and having a good (albeit quiet) little cry at work is ridiculous… well, sign me up, too. I prefer to think it’s rather normal.

    Anyway, now that I’ve robbed your comment in true blogger fashion, thank you for sharing. Even if your intent is mostly to get the thoughts out of your head, your words reach across the ocean and make at least one person feel a little less alone. And you do not suck.

  • Mary

    No way do you suck

    you are much-loved, talented and going through some things right now, but you’ll come out stronger. You are fantastic x

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    ‘The dark side clouds everything. Impossible to see the future is.’

    I think Yoda must have been based on a Jewish Brummie.

    It doesn’t sound ridiculous. I AM TELLING YOU you don’t suck. YOU WILL BE a WONDERFUL mother, And what, ummm, THEM UP ABOVE all said.

    Fibroid hunting is a funny old sport. They can be there on one scan and gone the next, in my experience. I had them noted intermittently – in different places! – during my earlier pregnancies, and one consistently noted throughout the manylotsmanylotsmanylots of scans I had whilst pregnant, with Harry, but it hasn’t been visible on any of the scans I’ve had since he was born. I am relying on the Lap to give me a definitive answer.

    Anyhoo. Back to you NOT SUCKING. I shall ‘duke it out’ (and I adore my newly acquired vocab!) with you should there be any recurring suggestion of any such nonsense. As Twangy rightly says, YOU ARE MIGHTY.

  • meganlisbeth

    you are far, far from sucking.
    i find you extraordinary.

    i hope you get some answers.

    xo
    megan

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