French Visit

I can’t even describe how down I feel. 4 days late, my French Visit arrived yesterday morning at 4:30. I guess I had suspected it would all along but still there was a glimmer of hope. It is just too horrible to accept that perhaps I am too old after all to get pregnant again! I am mad at God actually for not telling me what to do. Whether to go ahead and hope and try or whether to just give up, accept facts and go on with my life.

I counted out that so far we have spent 765 kronor/$116 on ovulation tests alone. And for what? Just flushing it down the drain. I don’t dare to think the thought that perhaps the doctor did me damage in there when she scraped me the second time after the missed abortion in March. After all, she did ask me if I didn’t think that 7 was plenty enough of children. She might have scarred me on purpose since she was not allowed to put in the IUD that she wanted to put in. Like it was any of her business. But looking at it now, so many months later, I wonder why the paper stated that I should bleed for 2-3 days and instead I bled for 2 1/2 months! And at the end of that period, a clumb of something odd looking came out. I did “give birth” at that time, to something looking like a “prince sausage”. The same feel as when Serena Rose left my womb. It could have been scabs from inside the uterus and they would have left scars meaning infertility in the future.

Is it right to think of having another child? I just can’t accept the death of Serena Rose. Will I ever? She was the girl we had all waited for, for so many years. We all wanted her so much. It is not enough to know that I will see her in the eternity. I wanted her here with me now, to see her grow up here with us. I wanted to hold her, cuddle her, discover the world with her.

It makes me so angry to know that there is help out there for the people that have money. We don’t have any! So a surrogate mother in India is not an option. IVF is not an option either. We can only hope for nature and it seems nature is working against us. I really feel panicked. The biological clock is running out on me. Even if I sat and watched an episode of “Holby City” last week that showed a 53 year-old woman having a child. And even if “Dollie’s” school mate Aurora’s mother had her little brother at age 49 and John Travolta’s wife had a baby at age 48, even though it happens to others, why would it happen to me? Could it even happen? Never have I wanted a crystal ball like now. Never have I wanted to look in to the future like at present!


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