It has been a tougb time of late. I know I am grappling with acceptance around going through perimenopause. I want to face it but I don't like it. It isn't where I want to be in life: learning how to live with menopausal symptoms.
I feel as if God wants me to go deeper into this journey that started three and a half years ago when I first started TTC our second child. Even though I don't want to dwell on SIF; there is no denying that perimenopause and SIF are interconnected, however I look at it. However, I feel as if I am moving through SIF to get to the bottom of what caused it: to grab the bull (perimenopause) by the horns as such.
I am in a place where I have limited resources to deal with my own stuff so have little to give right now. I kind of feel like the Last One Standing in the SIF group on Dailystrength. Over the last two and a half years I've watched several friends get pregnant; only to lose touch with them eventually - if not immediately. I watched God perform a few miracles and hoped, rather desperately, that God might have something up His sleeve for me. But I knew, every time someone got a BFP; that a BFN was the only thing on the cards for me.
When I went on anti-depressants for six months, I really tried to hold it together. I was diagnosed with mild depression yet not once did I hide under the duvet and try to escape from the world. I thought if I did it might indicate that I really wasn't such a great mother - if I couldn't be present for the one child that I did have - it was proof that I didn't deserve another child. So I carried on as best as I possibly could; even though I was barely functioning some days.
A year on post being on anti-depressants, I find myself in yet another rough spot. But this time I don't want to pretend that I'm ok. It's almost though I want to give up the fight. I've had such a strict lifestyle in a sense over the last two and a bit years - ever since it became painfully obvious that I couldn't conceive. Although I was waiting for the medical evidence; I knew, I have known for a good couple of years. I changed my life to accomodate the grief that was consuming me. I went to the gym and got a Sunday job to help distract myself from the pain.
But I starved myself from living, really living in some ways - I took caffeine/alcohol and sugar out of my diet. I went to the gym for stress managment. I tried to manage my pain in a healthy way - only once having a big night out when I went away one weekend. But apart from that, I thought the best way to face SIF was head-on. Sure, I have revealed some pretty intense feelings over the years - but I walked around with those feelings rattling inside, never succumbing to the place I really wanted to go - I really wanted to hide.
I feel as though I am going through a big emotional backlash post SIF-diagnosis where I want to binge eat and drink and hide under the duvet for a very long time. It's understandable, right? I mean, I have only just recently been told by an infertility specialist that I am in perimenopause. So I need time for that sink it. Time to accept that is where I'm at.
I have been on the verge of tears for days and a couple of lots of news from good friends that they are pregnant with their second children has been bad timing. They both have had IF issues and have been through a lot. I am happy for them - but sad for me. And angry at God. (once again). Will it ever be my turn? Even going down the adoption route; I have to wonder; Will it actually happen for us? Will we be picked? If I knew we had a new addition coming in a year or so - then I perhaps would handle this uprooting of my SIF grief differently. But that is all part of this path isn't it - the not knowing.
My menopausal symptoms seem to bring out the worst in me. It is kind of like having PMS - I am just more tired/more anxious/more stressed. I am trying my best to treat myself like a best friend and to do kind things - such as going to bed early. I had a couple of glasses of wine the other night while watching a chick flick with my Mum and totally pigged on Easter eggs at Easter. I just seem to need to let myself go at the moment. I was going to go to the gym on the way to the infertility support group meeting tonight but might give it a miss and go for a quiet walk instead. Peace and solitude - I seem to be craving it in multitudes.
I am struggling in my job which isn't helping things. My job was kind of my consolation prize for not having a second child at home - and I don't know if I even like it that much! It comes with lots of stress and I work way more hours than I am paid for. The extra hours in the evening put strain on my family as my daughter with her autism craves stability and routine and me being out of the house too much throws her off.
Having said that, I am finding it really hard to be present with my daughter today. I have shamefully put the tv on just to get some space - so I can write here. Sometimes I think perhaps God really does know best and maybe two children would be a struggle for me with my hormonal issues. I just don't seem to have the time or energy for anyone at this point. A day or even a week under the duvet would be good!
Without intending to, I seem to sometimes become a support person for people and this is hard when I need to fall apart myself. At times like this, it feels as if there is nowwhere to go. Nobody seems to understand premature menopause in my corner of the world. And as for SIF - I am not up to revealing my pain and having misunderstandings/insensitives thrown back at me. So what do I do? I withdraw and it is killing me.
To top things off it is school holidays here so the growing families are out in force. Yesterday my daughter and I caught the bus into town and there were families of two, three and four everywhere. Of course I bumped in many MOTs and MOTHs I know. I just about slapped a MOT who complained about being home with her two children all holidays! I have to apply self-preservation in the holidays which is often when my SIF stuff is triggered.
Tomorrow my daughter and I are going to spend the day with a good friend of mine. She is in her mid-60s and is like a mother-figure to me and always accepts me; whatever state I am. She had fpur children and two have died as adults so she gets loss. My daughter enjoys spending time out there too - she and her husband and their dogs and birds live by the beach - it is always a relaxing place to go and somewhere I try to take my daughter once every school holidays.
I am a mess. I know it. One of my Mum's friends lost a spouse recently. Apparently he was found out of it in his bed after a heavy night's drinking shortly after the funeral. It's sad - but understandable. We all respond to grief in different ways. I guess this time round my grief is a little less controlled and I am giving myself the time and space to feel what I need to feel. I am giving myself permission to fall, trusting that eventually I will stand again.
I feel as though I went to war with SIF and now I'm out of it, I have more battles to face. But the battles post-SIF constantly touch on some of my SIF stuff. I do think of us all facing SIF as soldiers going to war. But some soldiers come out more scathed than others: Two soldiers go to war, Soldier A and Soldier B - and they both come back home with damaged legs. Soldier A gets to walk again, after a lot of physio. Soldier B's legs are beyond repair and so he has to adapt to a life in a wheelchair. Neither of them will forget the war. But for Soldier A, life carries on eventually. Soldier B has a much longer recovery and has to live with a permanent loss - that of not being able to walk again. That has been my journey. SIF was my war. Infertility is my permanent loss. And perimenopause is the new life I am having to adapt to. One day I will accept it; but I feel as though I have a long way to go.
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