'You what?' I said, before I punched her in the head, whereupon she fell down and rolled over dead. Now you might think I'm crazy or perhaps an assassin, but there is a good reason to why I did this poor lass in! She made a daft comment, in fact two or three. So I figured why not, she's far crueller than me! She said, 'Take it easy, don't think about it!' She said 'Put your feet up and buy a fertility kit!' She continued to talk and just rabbit on, as if the solution was simple and I’d been getting it wrong. ‘It’ll happen when you least expect it, just wait and see. Be grateful for what you’ve got and enjoy being free!’ She made me feel ungrateful and ashamed for feeling sad, Like I should jolly well pull my socks up. I’d started to get mad. Another helpful catchphrase, ‘It’ll happen to you one day.’ but how on earth does she know if the ‘will’ will find a ‘way’? ‘You know my cousin Nora?’ She went on to say. ‘She’s now got seven children after her initial delay.’ ‘Bedroom bloody gymnastics, she used to stand upon her head.' (I know she thinks she’s helping, but I’m not surprised that she’s now dead!) She's offered me special teas and other apparent cures, I just feel so damn weary, I’ve tried them all before! She's blabbed on about her reiki, acupuncture and yoga stuff! But I've been there and I’ve done that too and now I’ve had enough! Well, she kept on chirpily chit chatting as if she knew it best, but I wanted her to hug me, to acknowledge the unfairness of my test. I really needed kindness and a little empathy, not a know it all’s approach to life, I needed love and TLC. So just be aware, dear friends (and foe) that when you make a flippant comment, the reality of this issue means daft words won’t help the torment. And now this lass is splat upon the floor with no more ‘advice’ to offer. I do feel guilty I must admit, but at least she didn’t suffer!
Waiting for calls, waiting for faxes, waiting for forms, emails and taxis. Waiting for results, waiting for news, waiting for info, answers and clues. Waiting for admin, an important letter. Waiting for consultants to tell us the matter. Waiting for side-effects that'll make me feel sick. Waiting for doctors to get it over with quick. Waiting for sleep, waiting for drugs, waiting for an abundance of healing and hugs. Waiting for success, waiting for failure, waiting for respite from financial mania. Waiting for blood, waiting for money, waiting for injections twice daily in my tummy. Waiting for eggs, waiting for sperm, waiting for embryos to see if they'll form. Waiting for peace, waiting for home, waiting for grief to leave us alone. Waiting in corridors, waiting in clinics, waiting in hospitals, in cars and in panics. Waiting in surgeries, waiting in queues, waiting in beds, chairs and various loos. Waiting in vain, waiting in hope, waiting to see if my marriage can cope. Waiting through months, waiting through years, waiting through laughter, blood, sweat and tears. Waiting through shame, waiting through fear, waiting to see if that day is finally here. Well, waiting's a joke. It’s overrated. It really quite cruel and I’ve grown to hate it. But it's the name of the game for the infertile few. So much time is spent waiting, but what else can we do?