Hi everybody, we’re back from holiday.
Naturally we were a bit high strung on our way to this holiday. Hanging in for dear life to just get there. I’ve been counting the minutes to the start of this holiday for weeks. I had high hopes I would just forget all the crap that’s been haunting us these days and would be back to my normal pre-multiple miscarriage self. What was I thinking? I can’t go back to being that person now. Everything has changed. But I’m starting to acknowledge that although everything has changed, there is still a way to improve our quality of life.
On the plane I was seated next to the only pregnant woman on the flight. Within a 10 row radius we were surrounded by dozens of small children and babies and perfect families. It’s like someone’s out to get me, out to find the perfect way to torture me and they found it. A direct assault on my emotions. This is hardly fair. Why did we not book a flight that flew at midnight?!
Just hang on a few hours, we’ll be there before you know it and we can escape all the families, says the Hubs.
Pick up the car, head directly to flat, change and head to the beach. What do we see? Thousands, literally thousands of babies, small children and families. So many that we are actually a minority. There are buggies everywhere! We might be the only couple under 60 without kids here! And I can feel it. I can see it everywhere we look.
Little reminders of everything that we’ve lost. Taunts of what we’ve been unable to attain. Perfect families everywhere: young, happy, complete. I’ve never felt more inadequate in all my life. And that was Day 1 of 7 on the beach!
And I’m thinking what on earth am I doing here!? Why did I not send myself to some hostile environment devoid of comfort or ease? Why have I allowed myself to be tortured like this? It didn’t even cross my mind. I never would have expected numbers like these. Here in a place that was supposed to be my sanctuary. Where I was supposed to be able to forget it all. What I realise now is that there is no escaping the pain and grief and discomfort I feel about our current situation.
I can see it was bothering the Hubs too, being surrounded like this. Thankfully he’s not like me when a scenario like this has just turned my mood sour. He’s actually constructive and spent some time sourcing remote beaches that require a hike in, or are difficult to get to in hopes that the families would be deterred.
He found some. And so we spent the rest of our holiday avoiding babies, kids, families. But it worked. We felt that little bit of relief we needed at long last. That silence and space from all those reminders was found and some healing has begun.
It was a good holiday. A good break. Time in the sun, in the sand, in the water, just me and the Hubs. Like it used to be. Calm and restful. Eventually. And although we can never forget what we’ve been through we can try to find ways to cope one day at a time.