My week in summary.

The last week has been difficult... in many ways!

Not least because someone else that I know found my blog... and told one of my closest mates (who doesn't read it) and I whilst wouldn't have any issues with her reading it at all, that's two people in a few weeks. So I have removed a lot of posts - they are saved in draft form, and I can read them whenever, but I'm sorry, they are no longer accessible to anyone else. I'm having to take some serious decisions about writing a blog - and at the moment I can't think about it. And no - I don't care that the person who found me, has read it, although in a text conversation she did say, that once she realised it was me, she did back out.

My grandmother died at the end of last week. And whilst I am upset, she had dementia... for the last 3 years she has rarely recognised any of us. I have visited her and been all sorts of people - from her history, but also  random people. The next to last time that I visited her, she recognised me, and remembered that I had a little boy... she asked to see a photo. It is a memory I shall carry with me.

The difficulties that are involved - my aunt has decided that she has to be cremated and we have to have a thanksgiving in the area that she grew up... down in Suffolk. My mum would have liked her to be cremated near here, where she was living, and then have a internment of the ashes and thanksgiving in Suffolk at a later date.

So I have to visit Suffolk, it's too long to travel in a day, plus the timing isn't great. I can't take boyo to the funeral, I can't leave him with anyone apart from M. If we had been here, I could have left him with friends or childminder for a few hours, but we can't do that. We are all going south, but only I can go to the cremation and thanksgiving service.

It's been difficult as my Mum (although it was my Dad's mum) has been arguing with my aunt about it. And my aunt has felt awful. On Wed I had texts and emails from both of them which I could not deal with, as I was trying hard to prepare my a level students for their exam. I nearly lost it at lunchtime when I received a text demanding that I phone my Mum immediately... I didn't, I went and had my lunch with some work friends and turned my phone off.

And this has been the story of my week - nothing simple, all high emotions and difficult decisions. And next week isn't promising to be a great deal better...more work than I know what to do with. A level exam on Wed, which means very stressed y13's on Tues. Gathering information that I want boyo's teacher to have for next year. Pre school committee meeting. And making sure that I have sorted out all the issues with taking a boy who doesn't deal with change to a hotel for a few nights!

leaving work... part 2

Sorry - this is long and is mostly for my memories....

The last couple of days have been bizarre. I walked into walk yesterday feeling more than a little odd. And I left feeling full of hope for the future. Thursday was saying goodbye to some very special people that I have taught for a long time. People that I watched grow in height and character from being 11 years old and nervous at starting school to truly wonderful (mostly) young adults who are ready to continue their journey on. It happens every few years that you get to teach the same children over and over again.

I taught some of these children on that horrid Friday afternoon when I started to miscarry and yet felt that I had to stay at school. I taught them through the bleakness and despair that followed, and continued to follow. But through the hope as well. They don't know that, of course, but I do. But they do know that we are adopting a little boy - they were the first students at school to know, and they were lovely about it. They are deeply upset for themselves, but so happy for me. They baked a cake, got a card which they all signed, two of them wouldn't leave my classroom yesterday, I had flowers and hugs from them. And even though I don't teach them on a Friday, they all passed through my room at least once.

Friday was strange. It started with my boss having a dig at me over going out for a meal with friends - not the whole department. I have to say the day ended at the pub - with the same friends! Friday is assembly day for my form, so there we went. My other boss (year head); came up and asked me if the pupils knew why I was leaving to which I responded that my form did... a little into the assembly after his usual weekly spiel he said 'it's a sad day today, because we have to say goodbye to Mrs ....' He spoke about the fact I was adopting a little boy, and how pleased he was for me. He then called me forward and I received a bunch of flowers which another head of year gave to me, along with threatening to sing or give me a full on snog! My year head then preceded to give an assembly about heroes and finished with the challenge to the pupils to figure out who the heroes were in the world, celebrities or people who do special things like adopt little boys. I could have cried at that point.

My first lesson was a non-contact and I spent a lot of time moving things from my classroom. I was visited by some of the year 13's, with a bunch of flowers. At break time I was given another bunch of flowers, this time from the science staff, along with a speech about how I will be missed. My year 12's presented me with a card, hugs and chocolates. My year 11's turned up with cake. And at the end of the day, the people I teach chemistry with gave me another bunch of flowers. All sorts of teachers and assistants passed through my classroom, and some came baring gifts and cards. Some just to say 'good luck'.

At the end of the day, I went to the pub for a few quiet drinks with some friends. But lots of people turned up to wish me well. I eventually left after many hugs but no tears; and came home feeling very odd. It's strange to think that I won't be going back to teach at the school for a long time. And that everyone is so happy for me. When I got home, I re-read my cards, and I cried. Because the words that have been written are so lovely and caring and cherishing. These people are the reason that I've stuck it out for so long at that school.

My life is about to change, in a way that I've dreamt of for so long. And it's good to know that so many people have my back.

an evening out...

I'm sitting here shortly before midnight on a Thursday evening with tears running down my face. Not because something bad has happened - oh no, because the unbelievable seems to be about to happen.

Earlier on this evening, as I sat chatting to Michael it suddenly occurred to me, that this evening, something amazing was happening. This evening I have been out with some colleagues from work - my friends - and we have celebrated that I am leaving work in just over a week!

I'm actually starting to believe that this will happen. That after 8 1/2 years I will actually be a Mum and M will become Dad.

I've celebrated and relaxed with some of the people who have supported me over the last few years - and some newer friends. I've celebrated with people who have stood where I have, and have had the same outcomes and have had relationships split up. I've celebrated with younger people who are still to commit to relationships. But they were all happy for us, and I have had an enjoyable evening, and spent time with some lovely people.

Empathy skills for cabbages...

It's been a long week - filled with high and low moments... I've been thinking over this post since Monday. Today I'm making time to post it!


It's okay not to know what to say. 'Sorry to hear that' might not feel like a good thing to say, but at least you are acknowledging that there is an issue.

Sometimes it really is better to say nothing - words however well meant, can cause offence when someone isn't ready to hear them. A smile or a touch (or a hug virtual or otherwise) can say 'I'm thinking about you'.

Acknowledge that you can't possibly understand how the other person is feeling, because we can't live in someone else's head. Do, however, make sure that you try to understand that the person you are dealing with may be hurting, angry or upset, and therefore may not be entirely rational.

Realise that grief isn't something that is short term, and even when someone has a good day it doesn't mean that they are 'over it'. It will probably come back at some inappropriate moment.

If the person you are talking to wants to talk, listen to them. They want to talk, they probably don't need to hear your opinion, or what you would do in that situation.

Equally, if that person, that yesterday wanted to talk, doesn't today, accept that as their decision. Sometimes it is too hard to talk, sometimes it's better to not think about the things that cause the pain.

Let them know that you think they are doing okay. When you are living in pain (for whatever reason) it can be lonely. It's difficult to think straight, and sometimes self-belief and self-confidence go AWOL. Let them know that they are doing okay, because they might not know that.

Understand that you might not be the person they need to talk to at that time. Don't take it personally, just let them know that you are there, ready and waiting if they do need to talk to you at some other time.

Let them know that you care, in small ways or in big ways - it doesn't matter. But letting someone know that you care, that they matter is important for the other person.



I'm sure that there is more that I ought to add... in fact... if you have an empathy skill that you'd like to share, why don't you add it in the comments, for no other reason, but that you can.

shadows of darkness...

It's strange to think that this time last year I had just had my last fresh ICSI cycle and returned to work with yet another negative. It's strange to think about that passing of time, which in some respects seems such a long time, but equally has passed in the blink of an eye.

It's come back to me today, because I've been running around so busy for the past few weeks, and then today, although I should have been busy preparing for next year, I was distracted and not getting on. And I was thinking back to last year at this time, the fact that I'd returned to work before I was ready to cope, and that I although there were some good things that happened (giving up my responsibility was the best decision I made in all that pain), it was an awful time.

I've been looking back today for a couple of reasons; one I was discussing camera's with a colleague and friend at work, and knew that I had some pictures on my blog that demonstrated what I wanted to show her, so logged in. Which obviously started a conversation about the blog, which I said was my way of coping and that not many people who actually know me (IRL) are allowed to read it. Hopefully because I explained it was infertility this and infertility that she won't go looking for it and if she does I don't think she'll find it anyway. She's not that sort of person - and if she ever should find the blog and reads this, I hope she'll tell me, or at least not tell anyone else.

The second reason was because I was sat with a good friend of mine who is pregnant for a second time chatting. And we were talking about our old deputy who used to be such a comfort to both of us (her first baby is a clomid & met baby) who I saw recently and whilst I was chatting he admitted that the reason he understood so well was that his daughter was going through the same thing.

All of which (coupled with the hormones) has made me more melancholy than I wanted to be. And I can't help but reflect on the hope that I had then, and the fact that I am working to accept that I will never have our genetic child. We will push on, but I think I have to accept that every so often there will be a shadow of darkness. That whilst I am doing ok (well even) on a day to day basis - that sometimes it will all be a little too much, that there will be times when I need to sit and cry for what might have been.

But I shall look forward, a holiday followed by the gentle movement forwards on our adoption journey hopefully.