De ja vu

So I'm "due" tomorrow. For my Aunt Flo I mean, not a baby.

I peed on ANOTHER negative stick.  I think it's about the 6th for this month.  Because I've been nauseous for the last week, I was holding out great hopes.  But no.

The thing is, I started Metformin 6 weeks ago.  And according to my "Fertility Tracker" app, my 'aunt flo' last month came when she was scheduled. And it was the first time since we've started trying that I was actually happy to get my period. Because it was when it was supposed to be. And that meant, I might be regulating. And that meant that this month was 'the month' because when the app said I should be ovulating, I should be right?  The Metformin was working right?  Although I've felt like crap, and have had a couple of hyPOglycaemic events and had some major GI upsets, it's working right?  Especially since my beautiful, forever optimistic Dr had said "she had a woman in similar circumstances and she's just fallen pregnant" it meant I would too right?  Well wrong.

So you know what I did when that dreaded one line only came up?  I got drunk.  Even though, in my head, I'm still holding out the slightest of slightest hopes that all the people that have said "You know little James didn't show up on a stick until I was 8 weeks" and "those tests aren't 100% accurate" - I hope that they're right. But I KNOW that in a day or two, when I get my period, when I'm 'due' I'm going to burst into tears and be devastated, and holding out hope will only make that worse.

I know the nausea I've been experiencing, I've been experiencing ever since I started taking Metformin.  But this is different right?  It was totally morning sickness.  Even though I had absolutely NO other symptoms of pregnancy, it was totally morning sickness. TOTALLY.

The thing I forget? My husband.

Because the thing is, it's Father's Day here in a few days.  And I know, it's going to devastate him as much as Mother's Day devastated me. The Facebook feed of all the happy Mums with their presents and their burnt toast breakfast in bed.  And somehow I think his pain, is less than mine. Why? Because it's my pain and I'm a woman. And that's worse than his right?

He'll never know how it feels to have a life inside him. His sperm count was fine, so it means that I'm the problem.  I'm the failure in this baby-making relationship.  He has no idea.

But he does.  It hurts him.  And sometimes I'm so caught up in my own self pity and depression, that I forget that this affects him too.  He's ready to be a Dad.  He came home from work the other day in tears, because I'd greeted my pregnant best friend with 'Hey Mumma!' and he desperately wanted to call me that.  I had brushed him off, because he didn't FEEL what I felt.  He didn't know.

So the point of this (another huge) blog, was to get my feelings out about all the Wannabe Daddy's out there.  I apologise for all the other Wannabe Mummy's out there for sometimes forgetting that you're in this too.  It takes two to make a baby, and occasionally we are so focused on our own incapabilities that we forget that.

We love you.  We support you.  We are in this together.

If it wasn't for you, I would have the lost the plot a long time ago.  So thank you.