A disappointing holiday

We got back on Tuesday from 5 days in New Zealand.  I wish I could say that it was a great holiday but it was actually really disappointing, even though in 'public' (ie Facebook), it was GREAT.

We went with friends of my Sydney Boy's and it felt like we spent half the time there waiting.  Breakfast was always organised for 10am, and then we'd spend 15 to 20 mins waiting for them to arrive (we were all staying in separate hotels).  So, by the time they arrived, ordered food and then ate and made decisions about what we'd be doing for the day (because they would never commit to anything the day before!), it was around 11.30/12 so half the day had literally gone therefore limiting what we could do, or the number of places/things we could go and do.  So, that was very disappointing and very frustrating.

The other reason that the holiday was disappointing is because when we booked this holiday, I had envisioned that I would be pregnant.  I'd spent so much of the time leading up to the holiday thinking that I would be pregnant on our holiday because it seemed (at the time of booking it) like such a long time away.  So of course when AF arrived on the Sunday before we left for NZ, 3 days early and totally unexpected I might add, it just felt like an extra kick in the guts.

Every time I ate seafood, I couldn't help but think "I wouldn't have been eating this if I was pregnant", every pregnant woman I saw made me think "that should have been me!".  I couldn't even really enjoy the day at the Polynesian Spa, because the whole time I was sitting in the sulphur spa, I kept thinking "I don't think I'd have been doing this if I were pregnant - why aren't I pregnant yet? What is wrong with me?" and, let's face it, in the spa, you're pretty alone with your thoughts without the distraction of TV/internet/phone/ipod etc (and Sydney Boy had gone go-carting with his mates so no distraction from a companion either).

I know I really should be grateful - and I really do have so much to be thankful about.  Heck, some people can't even afford to have a quick overseas holiday, and some have been trying far longer than we have.  Not to mention the fact that once we have a baby, these get aways will become harder to organise and more expensive (maybe even non-existent, for a while).

Believe me when I say I am grateful for what we have, and enjoying what I've got, but I think I have learnt a very important lesson from all of this.

Up until now, I had put a ban on organising any more holidays this year because "I might be pregnant by then/have a new born" etc etc.  I realised that in doing this, I'm potentially only setting myself up for disappointment if by that time I'm still not pregnant.  I realised that I need something to look forward to and if a baby isn't it, it may as well damn well be a freakin' holiday.

So, with that in mind, I've started to look at various destinations for a holiday toward the end of the year.  We won't be booking anything until after we've moved in May/June and get ourselves set up, but at least by then, the year will be halfway over and there'll be no danger of having a newborn before the end of the year.

I hope that in making this decision, the end of the year will be associated with a holiday which is something I DO have control over, rather than a baby which is something that I have NO control over.

So, the important question now is...

Where should we go?!

Waiting

Life is full of waiting isn't it? 


From almost the moment we wake up in the morning, we're waiting for something.  Whether it's waiting in line to buy a ticket on the train/bus/ferry, or waiting for that train/bus/ferry to arrive.  Maybe it's waiting in the traffic jam, waiting for our favourite TV show to come on or waiting for dinner to cook.  Our days are filled with waiting.


We wait until we're old enough to go to school, then we're waiting until we can leave school, waiting until we can get a job, waiting until we meet the right person, waiting for them to call, waiting for the next date, waiting to start that new job, waiting for the next best thing...


We're waiting for the next weekend, the next public holiday, the next weekend or holiday away.  We're waiting for our birthdays, for Christmas.


Right now, I'm waiting for my Sydney Boy to come home.


Waiting.


I have spent the last 2 and a half (almost 3) years waiting for the opportunity to try to conceive another baby. To get through that time waiting, I convinced myself that the waiting was a great opportunity for me to have lots of fun without the tie down of kids (and I did).  I convinced myself that the waiting meant that 'in a perfect world', the waiting was just being 'banked' so that when the time came, it'd happen easily and quickly.  I mean, after all, I'd done my time waiting right?!


So now I'm stuck in a conundrum.  Technically, it's only 4 months, next to nothing, but yet because of the previous waiting, it feels like so much more.  The closer I am to the end goal, the further away I feel that I am.


In all of this time, while I have been waiting, I have been watching others get pregnant and experience all those things that I almost had, all those things that I want so badly, and hope to one day get to myself.  


While I have been waiting, I feel like I am being left behind.  I can't help but be hurt by those who came to me during a time of their need, their own loss, and I listened to their concerns and their grief and helped them through it where I could, but when their life moved on and they got pregnant again and it's like they have become the very essence of the people they once were so hurt by themselves.  


I can't help but feel as though they too, the very people I thought understood how it felt, have left me behind too.  And it really hurts.


I am reminded of that old saying "when you think the world turned it's back on you, take a closer look, maybe it was you who turned your back on the world" or something like that...  


In some cases, that does apply.  I have become someone that sometimes I don't even recognise - I feel so much bitterness when the topic of babies surfaces.  I feel ripped off that I won't ever get that innocent first pregnancy.  I feel ripped off that people who are, in my eyes, undeserving can get pregnant so easily when it's not as easy for me (and in some people's cases, down right difficult).  It's because of this, that I have distanced myself from certain people, just to spare me, and them a little bit of bitterness.


And maybe, to a degree, part of it is that I want to be the one who is doing the leaving behind.  No, that's not it.  I want to be the one who has the *choice* to do the leaving behind.  


I really am just tired of the waiting.  And yet that's all I can do:


Just wait.

Disclaimers

I guess that I should be up front and put a couple of facts here: 

1. I *know* I'm only 25, that I have LOTS of time before I have to worry about running out of time.
2. I *know* that we have only been trying for 4 cycles so far (this will be our 5th) and others have been trying far, far longer than we have.
3. I *know* that if we just relax and stop thinking about it, it will probably happen.

But, with that, is this:

1. I feel like I was born ready for kids.  
2. My miscarraige turned a switch on inside of me that I have yet not been able to find the off button.  
3. Next month will mark 3 years since the only time I have been pregnant.  
4. June this year marks 3 years since I lost my twins.
5. As a result of 3 and 4, it *feels* like it is longer than 4 cycles that I have been waiting, because technically I have been waiting almost 3 years.
6. I know several women with fertility issues, and I'm terrified that with my history with Mr T and Mr J, this is something that, quite conceivably could one day be me.
7. Trying to relax and stop thinking about it, is a bit like trying to get a kid to relax and stop thinking about Christmas.

I guess the reason I am saying all of this is to put the things I say into context.  When I'm whinging that I feel like I am never going to get pregnant, it's in this context.  

It's the head constantly fighting with the heart.  The only question is, which one will win?

In the beginning

Someone once said that you won't know where you're going until you know where you've been.  I guess that is why, so you will understand where I am and where I'm going, I should first explain where I have been.


I always wanted to be a mum, even when I was younger.  I used to think that by the time I was 21 I would be married and have a baby, or at least be pregnant.  I'm now 25 and sometimes feel as though I'm no closer now to this than when I first thought this.  Of course I know that I've got plenty of time up my sleeve, but it's the waiting that just feels so hopeless.  


I've almost had it a couple of times, and I've been incredibly lucky both times that I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it.  I am sure someone was looking out for me up "there", wherever "there" is.


When I was in my last year of high school, I met a man, Mr T who was 5 years older than me.  This relationship lasted 2 and a half years with a further year added dragging it out getting back together and breaking up.  In those 3 and a half years, we used protection for the first couple of months, and I was not on the pill yet I never fell pregnant.  At first it was all a bit of a thrill, I admit, thinking we were pretty clever to avoid pregnancy.  After a while though, we began (well at least I did) to wonder why I hadn't fallen pregnant, and so every time I got my period, I'd spend the entire time hoping it would be my last.  Back then, I thought getting pregnant was as simple as "Insert tab A into slot B" and couldn't work out why it wasn't happening.  Eventually the relationship came to its final conclusion and within 3 or so months, I found out that Mr T had met another woman and she had fallen pregnant with his child.  I was devastated to hear this and drew the conclusion that I was unable to get pregnant.


Fast forward 3 years on, in another relationship with Mr J, who was very much older than me and I accidentally get pregnant.  After the shock wore off, the joy and excitement came, even more so when I found out that I was pregnant with twins.  That excitement and joy was short lived, though, when I had a missed miscarriage and lost both of them.  


I spent the following 2 years enjoying the single life, not knowing when I'd meet my knight in shining armour, or even *if* I'd ever meet him.  I can truly and honestly say that my 23rd year was a brilliant year and I was disappointed to turn 24 as I didn't think that I could ever have a year quite like the previous one.  Mind you, after everything that had happened when I was 22, I don't think it would have taken much to make my year as a 23 year old amazing.


Then, last year, I met the most amazing, loving, caring man that I have ever met.  The man whose body fits with mine, who can read my mind in much the same way as I can read a book.  Finally, a man where there are no rollercoaster rides of emotions, someone who does not screw me around.  I fell head over heels in love.  To read the VERY long version of this story, check it out here.


We decided late last year to start to try to make a baby Bella or a baby Sydney Boy and so far we haven't been successful.  I'm hoping and praying for a 2011 baby but hopes are running out fast now that we're already in February...