I’ve never really been much good at limbo. I like to be moving forward, feeling accomplishment, progressing life.
This morning is a Tuesday and I woke at 7am by means of an obnoxious alarm. Grumpily I trudged to the bathroom, showered and began the long process of caking my face in make-up and beauty products (something I’ve always had a passion for). I spent ten minutes pulling out one pair of tights after another only to find that every pair I owned sported multiple ladders. Irritated, I suck them all back in the drawer ready for the same battle tomorrow. Descending the stairs, five minutes are spent saying ‘Hello’ to Dexter the dog, trying not to offend his welcome by holding him at an arm’s length to save my black trousers from his velcro-like Labrador blonde hair.
After just enough time to grab a slice of toast with my husband who works mainly from home, I’m out the door, keys in hand en-route to the office. The second working day of the week has begun.
Erm- no, try this..
This morning is a Tuesday and I woke at 9.26am. 9.26am!! I didn’t even hop out of bed in alarm and dress myself so quickly my skirt ended up back to front. No, instead I lounged in bed, checked the social media garb and contemplated my day.
Things I must do today
Things I should do today
- Unpack suitcases from holiday
- Walk dog
- Attempt the gym (this sounds a lot more energetic than it is)
- Clean house (again the enthusiasm here tends to be on the lower spectrum)
Things that people are going to be very upset with me for not doing today
(Except potentially the dog)
Eventually I make it to the bathroom and observe myself in the mirror with strangers eyes. I’m starting to go a little grey, just to the sides but there is no doubt it’s giving my once shiny hair a wiry hint. Has my face changed? It looks more lined. Do I have jowls??? Perhaps I’ll add ‘Botox research’ to my list. No need for make-up, the dog isn’t bothered and I’m not sure I have the energy to poly-fil those lines anyway.
So what has happened to make my life so careless and responsibility free? What has enabled a thirty year old woman to loll around in bed on a working week morning like a retiree? The truth is that I had my first round of IVF a year ago and I got it wrong!
I gave up my job when we began the process, I was overwhelmed by the cocktail of hormonal drugs and the constant appointments and scans, I let it become me and because of this the real me just fell out of the bottom somewhere. In all honestly I also believed that the process would work, that at the end of it my purpose would be as a mother and a carer. Instead I put myself in a situation in which I depended on a positive result, dangerously making failure ‘impossible’.
This was a mistake. Limbo is a hard place to be, long-term plans are impossible to make and the guilt felt by standing so still in life while others rush around is aching. As I approach the next round I have realised that what I need to do is find me and keep a hold of her, whatever it takes. It turns out I was more of a friend to myself than I knew.
(Dex got his walk by the way)