It’s not my fault …

Extract from an email to an old friend dated 2 June 2014, three days before my diagnosis of immature egg syndrome:

Hi D,

Been awhile. I’m having a crazy nostalgic reach out to my past and share things with people who were so influential in shaping my life kinda day.

How are you? I don’t even know if you’re married yet or not married or creating new loves or making little versions of yourself or anything. Prob seems silly to ask so out of the blue but I miss you.

We’ve had to go down the IVF route. It’s been a pretty shitty three months since we had the first test to the first hormone injection. I haven’t taken it well. I’m not the one at fault so I guess I’m playing the blame game but it’s not easy for either of us.

I discovered how much hate I have inside me and how much darkness. A psychic told me I have a dark shadow in my aura and despite it being codswallop she wasn’t wrong. I’ve learnt a lot of unpleasant things about myself. 

I hate how unfair it is. I hate the pregnant women who stand outside the hospital smoking. I hate having to listen to no fewer than five work colleagues talk in front of me about their pregnancy.

I hate that there is not a thing wrong with me but I’m the one getting stabbed with needles every day, having blood tests and scans every other day, missing work every other day, being uncomfortable and in pain because of the drugs I’m on. I hate that hubby’s contribution to this entire process will be watching some porn while I have surgery. I have a lot of things to hate right now.

Write me long, or not. I needed to share with someone who knew me before.


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