More talk...

I did have that conversation with the deputy last week. But I bottled it... and then I thought and realised that I needed to speak again, but wrote down what I needed to say. I printed it out and went to see him as soon as I arrived in school... he wasn't in his office, or the other twice that I tried before school. As I was teaching for the rest of the day I decided to leave it until another day and put the paper in my desk drawer.

During my third lesson I came across the piece of paper, and as I had a good friend in the classroom (as a support teacher) and I knew it would make her laugh I showed it to her. She read it, and then went to the door... 'I'll just take it down to him now'. Which made me cough and splutter, but in the end agreed it was probably easiest.

So she went, and give it to him, which made him worry, because he thought he'd done something wrong. She reassured him and said 'no, it was just that I needed to explain some things a little more'. And gave him my list, and then strolled back to my classroom.

The next time I saw the deputy it was whilst I was chatting to some pupils about their work, which he needed to know was sorted. So my first conversation after 'the list' was mundane and went something like 'C... has finished all her science'. The next one occured after school whilst I was chatting to friend who'd stolen the list and given it to him. I asked if it was okay, he said yes - and not to forget his door is always open... (yes - but he's not always there!)

So my list...

M...
It was pointed out to me that I might have left out a few important points when I spoke to you...


1. I don’t expect sympathy ever – I do need sympathy sometimes, but I will always speak to the people who know how to support me best
2. I can deal with my life, in my way – it might not be the best way but it’s the only way I can cope.
3. I can be incredibly self-centred and want allowances to be made when things are tougher than normal.
4. I am angry about the situation and sometimes that anger is immense
5. My self-confidence has taken beating
6. I’m honest enough to admit to jealousy
7. The past 6 years of treatment have been beyond horrid and the time before treatment was not much better.
8. I have 3 different issues that make me infertile; the worst of these problems at the moment is causing me a lot of pain – and consequently when I spoke to the consultant last week I agreed to have hormone treatment for the next 6 months.
9. The 2^nd of those issues means I that I don’t do well with too many hormones – and by not well I may randomly end up in tears or raging.
10. I am a mess 90% of the time when I am not teaching – it’s why I mope around unless I am feeling particularly motivated.
11. It is not in my plans to be a ‘career teacher’. I love teaching and I don't want to leave my classroom to be a manager anytime soon.

I know but do you?

I know I’m difficult to deal with. I know that my infertility has changed me beyond anything I could have imagined. I know that I come across as angry and bitter. I know I don’t smile like I used to. I know that I push my friends away because I can’t help myself.

BUT…

Do you know that sometimes it would be good to hear ‘it’s okay’ when I’ve cried?

Do you know that sometimes it would be nice to hear ‘I care about you and think you’re doing okay’ when it feels like the world is against me?

Do you know that even when you don't want to hurt me by asking how I am doing, it would be good to hear 'how are you'? Because sometimes this feels incredibly lonely.

Do you know that sometimes a simple smile would make me feel like you appreciate my pain?

Do you know that sometimes in the blackest minutes a hand reached out in friendship is all that’s needed?

Do you know that I don’t want to constantly think about my problems, and sometimes dealing with other people’s, lessens the pain?

Do you know that just because some days I can’t laugh, I still need laughter around me?

Do you know just because I’m scared that my life won’t work out how I planned it, I am not incapable of dealing with my friend’s lives? That it hurts more when I am left out?

Do you know that sometimes sitting and crying with someone can bring about smiles and laughter?

Do you know that ignoring the problem, doesn’t make it go away and that I’d feel better if you’d acknowledge it – even if that is all you can do?

Do you know that the biggest thing that I’ve learnt on this journey are that the friends who stick around come rain and shine, are the ones that are worth fighting for?

Listening but...

Sometimes people listen – but don’t actually hear. I was discussing with a fellow infertile (for which you can read also failed IVFer) at work last week about some rubbish that was going on in my head. We got round to discussing our holiday plans for the summer and how M & I could afford a proper holiday for the first time in years because there was no IVF this year! She said that the previous day they’d been discussing babies in the staff room at lunchtime (and you wonder why I avoid the place), as a colleague had brought her baby girl in.

One of the younger Maths teachers commented that ‘so-and-so (who happens to be a friend of mine who’s been to my school on supply) spent £12,000 on having her babies’.

‘Yes’ agreed my fellow infertile, ‘but at least she’s got two babies for her £12,000. I spent that and got nothing.’

‘I would never, ever spend that much on trying for a baby. I would live without first.’ Came the response. If I’d been there I might have been tempted to say – that you don’t know what you’ll do until you have to take those decisions.

I wish I could really educate people about what being infertile is about. Not just the financial aspect but the physical and emotional side of it. I have some amazing friends who have walked this path along side me and know a lot of it. But even they don’t see the whole picture. The nights of crying, the way it saps you of energy, confidence, and most importantly hope. But to educate people I’d have to be a little braver about shouting out about it – it’s still after all this time hidden from a lot of people – mostly because they have no need to know!

Dear me

This letter was written as a response to a challenge that one of my Y13 (18 year olds) throw at me last week. It is always clearer to see things looking backwards; this is simply the advice I would offer to my 18 year old self if I could. Sadly I still have to write one to share with my pupils...

Dear nh (aged 17 (nearly 18))

I need to tell you some things; you won’t believe me, but that’s ok eventually you’ll understand.

Those friends you are so keen to see, they don’t matter. They are mostly fair weather friends, they now reside in the pages of the internet. In a few years when life gets a little harder, it won’t be them who’ve got your back covered. It’s the people you would never imagine who will stand with you. The new friends you make, treasure them, because they are worthwhile sticking with. The old friends that are still there, who’ve known you forever will forgive you more than anyone deserves.

Those lies they tell you – that your school years are the best in your life. You are right, they are lies, I would not go back to that time for anything. But don’t be in such a hurry to grow up, everything that you are doing now, learning and experiencing they shape you for what happens next. When you get to your early 20’s enjoy because they are the best times!

Don’t worry so much in the summer if you don’t get the grades in your A levels that you want. Your second choice isn’t what you want, but after a couple of years you’ll find you are on the university course for you. You’ll learn such a lot about the world around you and you’ll find your niche in the world. I love my job (at least 80% of the time) of the time, not many people can say that.

Enjoy yourself – but not so much that you start hurting other people. Remember your parents are entitled to worry about you – it’s in their job description. Talk to them, share your hopes and dreams. It’s only as you get older that you realise that they are also getting older. You watch them change before your eyes and you may regret the things that were never said and things that were said in too much anger.

Give up worrying about your relationship with your sister. You can’t heal it, you are too different and only one person is trying. Be open to her, but you will eventually live your own lives. It doesn’t matter – it’s the way it has to be sometimes.

That male friend of yours, the one who is friends with that bloke you think you love, talk to him, listen to him. He will become your best friend, your rock and your world. That other bloke – so much rubbish, so much water under the bridge, he’ll always be a part of your life but only at the edges. The good one is the one that you’ve never looked at, seriously cling onto him.

The angst over life; so not worth it. Problems will come in the future that you have never dreamt of. Eventually life will throw you a curve ball. Something that you cannot imagine, but that causes too much pain and suffering both to you and your loved ones. I won’t tell you know because it will seem irrelevant and you will not understand. But you will get through it; because you are a stronger person than you can ever imagine.

Love you (aged 31 (nearly 32))

Holding on to the dream, until the pain of trying hurts more than the pain of letting go

EDITED TO SAY:
Beautiful words that they are, they didn't come from me - one of my friends found them someone else on the web and sent them to me. I loved them so much and they explain so much that I had to put them here.

Spare room...

We have our niece (nearly 6) staying with us this week - which is fine because I love her to bits and what are teacher aunties for, if not looking after nieces during school holidays. But I was sorting out our spare bedroom today ready for her, when it hit me; this darling girl, who I adore, should not be sleeping in our spare bedroom but sharing her cousin's bedroom. In a different life, her cousin would have been born 5 or so years ago, and would be less than a year younger than her.

They would be up there now, whispering and giggling, supposedly going to sleep on bunk beds. They would be getting excited about all the things that they would be doing this week. They would be swapping secrets and teddy bears; they would be happy together. I know this because this is what I did with my cousins when I was younger.

Instead of this, she's upstairs asleep (the tooth fairy has already visited) in our spare bedroom. Sleeping in solitary splendor having read her book and had lots of cuddles. We have lots plans but tonight I regret that she hasn't got a cousin to share it with. She's excited and tomorrow I will be too; but for tonight I will dream of what might have been.

Not happy but content

I took Pepper for a walk this morning and felt content... not happy I still need to heal more for that, but content in that I could cope with this. I did realise that I haven't cried for 5 days, which is fantastic, although I did nearly break down when talking to the lady at the hairdressers. I missed an appointment last week and had to apologise, she said she'd forgive me if I had good news for her - I had to admit to not having any...

Brought a Wii this afternoon - it's my pressie to myself. All I want now is a Wii Fit and I can pretend to be exercising. I should just get myself to the gym!