Facebook memories are funny things aren’t they. Sometimes they remind you of the great times and you share it and tag friends but occasionally they remind you of the times you’d rather forget.
Today I logged onto Facebook on my computer which I very rarely do and there popped up 2016 Prue riding a bike in Copenhagen. I looked happy and free, was wearing my favourite leaf shirt and was having a great time celebrating one of my oldest friends 30th birthdays whilst discovering a new city.
What you don’t see is that I was at the end of my tether. I had just finished what I knew was the last round of IVF I was prepared to do and I was on the run from life and a reality that my light hearted self just didn’t want to face. So let me take you back.
I had plans in life. Finish school, travel, find a boy, get married, renovate some houses, have kids, live a great life and grow old whilst travelling some more. It was all going so well and to plan until we just couldn’t get pregnant.
We waited the 18 months until the GP would start looking into it, went back and forth with tests for another year, had records and tests results lost between hospitals that didn’t seem to talk, then we finally got to a specialist. We did 6 months of clomid which to be honest we all knew was a waste of time but it was a box ticking exercise to get to the next thing. Then come 3 rounds of stimulated IUI which again they didn’t seem that positive about but again the box needed to be ticked before we could move on to IVF.
When the first round failed I was crushed. I had pinned everything on this working. I surprised myself, this ice queen cried for days it was like the flood gates had opened and my eyes just would not stops running. I felt like I had lost all hope. So when the second round didn’t work there were no tears, I honestly think my body was all dried out, there was just a need to escape.
I jumped on the train down the London to meet up with Gem and we were flying out to Copenhagen the next day. The hospital called while I was on the train to say I hadn’t come to my follow up appointment. I lied and told them I had it in my diary wrong but I knew what day it was. I just didn’t care anymore. Basically after they tell you the round has failed (which you probably already know because you have your period by that point) they schedule you to come in for more blood tests and to talk about next steps. For me the thought of talking about any of it just wasn’t something I wanted to think about.
For the past 8 months we had been bound by appointments, injection schedules, daily check ups and I couldn’t take one more thing. Especially when I knew they would want to discuss keeping going (we have what they call unexplained infertility) even though I knew I didn’t want to continue I also didn’t want to admit that to anyone.
The hospital told me that if I experienced any pain or a fever to go to A&E straight away but I knew I was fine, I just needed to get away. The seven in me (that’s seven in the enneagram test, if you haven’t done it already do the test!) needed fun and to feel free!
We never went back. The whole experience was quiet grim and to be honest I couldn’t take the way that they looked at you. I don’t do well with sympathy and pity.
So that picture popped up this morning and it just reminded me not to look at others pretty pictures and think they have it all together. For all you know they’re managing a dumpster fire and running away from there problems just like I was 3 years ago.