I'm not sure where this post is going to end up, but I want to write about what's in my head.
I am now two weeks post molar pregnancy diagnosis. This time two weeks ago, I think I was in bed, fully dressed under the covers, with my partner, crying my eyes out because I was terrified of having a general anaesthetic and an operation up my lady-bits.
Things have moved on since then and I've observed a few things about what has happened to me and the effect it has on other people.
When you lose something, when you are grieving, when you are ill people really *really* want you to be ok. To the extent that they don't really want what is happening, to be happening.
Those of you reading who have lost, been ill or been very sad will know that feeling when you realise "I have to experience Every. Single. Second. of this."
There's no running forward to the "nice bit" when you're "over it", or "better" or this is a "distant memory". This is happening to me, right now. It's difficult, painful, hard and there's no getting away from it. I wake up thinking about what happened, what is happening, and what may happen. That's a constant record playing in my head. I can't switch it off, sometimes I want to, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I can think "this has happened to me, I'm dealing with it, I'm ok." Other times I think, "THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME! ME! Boring old me, who nothing of any consequence ever happens to! How did this happen? Why me?" And that goes on and on and on in my head for a long time.
No one can answer that question. No one can make it better, or take it away, or change it, or pull me through it so I don't notice it's happening. No one can do that. I just have to grind through every single second, of every single day until one day I wake up and can think about something else before I think about how I am going to get through the day dealing with the many things that are happening to me because I had a molar pregnancy.
But oh, people wish so hard they could make it better, take it away or change it. They wish so hard, and you have to be thankful that they're trying.
And yet, and yet. I don't want to be thankful. I don't want to be thankful to the GP telling me that this will be a distant memory in six months' time. Because she doesn't know, does she? She can't predict the future. No one can, and these circumstances are so awkward, so strange that no one knows what will happen. My levels may drop, drop, drop then plateau or even rise. And that means I will have to have chemotherapy. No one can give me a timescale, no one can tell me what will happen. No one can tell me what to do to make things go right. Because nothing can. I just have to sit it out and hope for the best. So trying to tell me that it's all going to be ok seems rather...ignorant. Unhelpful. Pointless. Insulting. Offensive.
Then there's the "it could be so much worse" camp. You know "At least you haven't lost a leg in a landmine!" "At least your partner doesn't beat you up!" "At least you have a house and a car and a job!" And you know what? I'm eternally grateful every single day of my life that I live where I live, that I'm from the cultural background I'm from, that I have the education I had, that my life is charmed, basically. I'm probably more grateful than most people because a large part of my life is dedicated to raising awareness of the people for whom struggle, abuse and brutality is daily business. But you know what? This is happening to me, right now. And I'm sorry that other people have harder lives, I am. But this is the hardest my life has ever been and I'm trying to deal with it, second by second. Making me feel guilty for finding it hard...doesn't help.
Finally, there's the "think positive" crowd. Don't think about the "bad" things that could happen. Focus on the good stuff! Keep smiling!
I don't much feel like smiling to order today. Strangely, I never did. And I really don't feel like smiling to make other people feel better about what is happening to me. It doesn't help, it just makes that shard of bitterness inside me get an inch bigger, every time.
Sometimes I don't feel like being brave, or strong. I don't feel either of those things right now. I wish this had never happened to me, and it has. I wish I could go away for a long time and come back and it was all over and my life was different and better. Or I wish I could swap with someone else for a day or two, then come back and get stuck in. But I can't, I just have to keep going.
I'll deal with this my way, and that's allowed. So if someone wants to tell me to "keep smiling" I'll have to point out, right now - I haven't got much I feel like smiling about. If I want to be scared about the possibilities of chemotherapy, or never being able to have children in the future, I'll be scared about that, thanks. And it's sad, but a fact, that nobody can do or say anything at all to make it go away.
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