Exhausted

Well we're back home after four nights away in Ruby Bay at my Mum's, which is just twenty minutes drive from our place. My Mum actually lives in Wellington but comes down with her partner fairly regularly to Ruby Bay.

It was a quiet Christmas and Christmas lunch consisted of our little family - my husband, myself and our daughter, my Mum and her partner and a visitor from up the road. I tried so hard to be in a good place with it all and mainly Christmas was pleasant. As I sipped a glass of alcohol I did think of friend no. 1 who would be abstaining, being newly pregnant and all. I barely drink and would have gladly swapped a glass of champers to be in her shoes. Stop it, I told myself, don't go there... I overindulged in the Christmas fare like you do, eating way too much dessert and consequently felt bloated most of the day.

Part of my journey with secondary infertility has included eliminating a whole lot of vices from my diet. I did this after my miscarriage last Christmas, thinking my diet may or may not have contributed. So I took out caffeine, sugar and alcohol. I have stuck to herbal teas the whole time but do have the occasional alcoholic drink and sugary treat such as an icecream every now and then. This diet change resulted in me losing 7kg.

Over Christmas I probably had something sugary to eat every day. To be honest, I am what you'd describe an emotional eater so it is a little dangerous for me to go there, especially given my fragile state of late. I think that is what has been so hard about my struggle this year; I've done it without any vices and it has made it so raw and painful. However last night I did devour quite a considerable amount of chocolate, something I haven't done for so long. I found this relaxed me and (unlike me) I starting falling asleep in front of the television before 9pm! I had a decent sleep as a result and am going to make an effort to get in more early nights in the coming year as I know only too well that lack of sleep only exaggerates rocky emotions.

I am exhausted and sick of myself and my wobbly feelings. This afternoon when we got back I checked my email and there was one from friend no. 1 saying she struggled with morning sickness on Christmas Day. As I shared this with my husband he checked the expression on my face and opened his arms for a hug; obviously expecting me to start crying. I didn't, even though I felt the usual mix of envy and a stab of pain. (The tears came a little later, once again over the dishes with the worship songs playing.) I thought how sad, that that's what I've become, a walking time-bomb. So for 2008 I pledge to go to bed as early as possible most nights of the week as exhaustion may be something I can help myself with at this time.