Today I've had the rather disconcerting realisation that if I hadn't miscarried at the end of May, I'd have just 5 weeks of pregnancy left. I'd be massive now, probably hardly able to move if my previous pregnancy is anything to go by. Strangely, I'm glad that's not me right now. I'm sighing with relief, can't your hear it?
At the same time, I've been doing some soul searching. Now that I'm yet another year older (39 if you must know), there has to be consideration as to how long I'll keep the monthly rollercoaster of hope and fear at bay before it takes over. While I feel young for my age, I don't feel like 23 any more, and the prospect of pregnancy and the first year is not something I particularly look forward to, knowing fine well what hard work it is, how it affects my body, my mood and my ability to keep things together.
Yet it's not about absolutes, but let's say that there's a limit to how much longer I'm prepared to try for a sibling for Cubling. Having grown up as an only child, this is a hard prospect to face. I always desired a sibling, I tormented my parents with it, who had been told that another pregnancy would be life threatening for my mum. I knew that but being a child, I still pleaded for a sibling, for years. Yet I also know that not all siblings get on. And really, we are so very lucky to have the most energetic, most delightful little girl anyone could imagine. She has the energy for two, so much is clear. Of course, if I look at how she's besotted with her little cousin, there's no doubt that she'd love to be a big sister. She keeps asking me "I big sister now?" and is disappointed when I correct her that no, she's not a big sister, but a big cousin, which is a very nice thing to be too.
Tomorrow I will take action and explore what options in the line of medical help are available, knowing fine well that I'm not even half way down the line of having unsuccessfully tried for one year or even two. I've been told that at my age, referrals can be made earlier, and I'm not going to waste any time. Having reached the "months trying" count that is the longest so far, it seems the right time. I'm also clear that there's only so far I will go. Some fertility procedures are out of questions because I will not put my body under the stress they entail. Yet while I really don't enjoy the overly planned approach to conceiving, I'm now prepared to work just a little bit more towards it. If daily peeing on stick is the way forward, so be it, I'm not going to be precious about it.
It feels good to be taking some action, and I'm hopeful for tomorrow's appointment. It also felt good to chat to someone at the weekend who shared an extremely similar experience, and as ever, it's so reassuring to hear that all the stuff that worries me endlessly is in fact, well, nothing unusual. This too gives hope and a renewed positive outlook. So the end of this decade marks another departure for me, as did the end of the last.
If you would send me some baby dust anyway, sure it won't do any harm ;)