I have called an emergency meeting with my Inner Therapist.

She sits primly on a straight-backed chair that looks like it came from St Vinnie's, with every good intention of re-upholstery, and was quickly demoted to the spare room. I sprawl on the carpet.

"Don't I get a couch?" I ask.

"You don't pay me," she answers, without looking up, "and I don't buy couches. Now. Why are we here?"

"It was the text message."

"Ah yes. The one where you got invited to coffee on Sunday with those friends you've barely seen all year. You know - your best ones. People go to therapy a lot because of that sort of thing."

"It's not just the coffee."

"The cake, too, huh?"

I leave a dignified silence where, otherwise, an undignified reply would be.

"It's your pregnant friend, isn't it? When you started trying, she hadn't even conceived her first. Now she's six months pregnant with her second." Inner Therapist is getting a bored, kind of glazed expression and I can see her mentally reshuffling her "dealing with other people's pregnancies" tape into the machine.

"I don't think it's that."

"You don't? Are you sure? I've got a really good broken record about it?"

"I know. Look... there's a different pattern here. Last night: Mr Bea's friend comes to town. Skipped it. No children involved. Well, I'm using a rather strict definition there based solely around physical age..."

"But you digress."

"Yes, um. Tonight: housewarming. Not going. Next weekend: work colleague's birthday. Declined. Cake in the tearoom last Thursday evening at work - couldn't make it. Too busy staring at the wall in front of me."

"So you're worried you're becoming antisocial."


"Sounds like you're becoming pretty antisocial to me."

"Well yes, I am. But it doesn't worry me."

"I'm lost."

"You're my therapist! I'm lost! You help me find my way!"

"Bea, I've had a hard week. If you don't like it, you can make your own narky comments."

"Look, sorry. Ok, here's the thing. I'm feeling fine again now. I'm not depressed - I'm totally handling it. I'm just exhausted. I just want to be left alone."

"Just want to be with yourself?"


There is a long silence whilst we look at each other. I nod. I shrug and nod. I waggle my head and eyebrows slightly to indicate how completely it's all been summed up. I break eye contact. I look at my hands. I pick at my fingernails.

"Ok... no."

"I didn't think so."

"How do you do that?"

"It's my job. It's what you don't pay me for."

Inner Therapist sighs in a way which indicates truce and plops herself onto the carpet in front of me. "There are people you don't mind hanging out with, aren't there? Even look forward to socialising with?"


"And they are?"

"J, and S. Mr Bea. My sister. The people in blogland and on the internet."

"I'm sensing a common theme here."

"They know."

"Could it be you're just tired of lying? Of shrugging and telling people there's nothing going on? No plans for the future?"

"Yeah, probably. But the thought of explaining myself to all those people makes me more weary than ever. J, S, Mr Bea and the internet folk know and understand."

Inner Therapist nods, and stares into the middle distance.

"You're not replying."

She sighs. "I'm tired too, Bea. I don't have the answers tonight. Give me a raincheck?"

"Sure. Raincheck. Maybe the answer will just materialise..."


Bea said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Bea said...

I want to thank you all for the messages you left after the last post. I sound like this OTT, crazy, husband-beater whose life is just one long search for the next crisis even if it has to be invented out of thin air.

I know some of you have had it tougher. I know it's not the end of the world. Yet, anyway. I appreciate no-one trying to remind me of that. I appreciate everything you said.



Bea said...

Oh, ignore the deleted post. I just didn't word it right the first time.

ColourYourWorld said...


I could have written that (no where near as beautifully of course)

I understand...
When people ask you how you are or what's new ?, you want to tell them everything that has been happening...but then you can't unsay it. So best to just smile and lie.
I am about to go to my nephews 21st Birthday, I really don't want to ...there will be lots of smiling and lying. I prefer to be antisocial.
I hope you have a restful weekend.

StellaNova said...

I know the agony of not wanting to share but wishing they would understand anyway. I get cranky at them when they make insensitive remarks and, like you, look for opportunities to avoid their company. I don't know how to change it though. I don't want to tell everyone - but I know I can't keep avoiding everyone. Who knows how long it will take?

Talking to my cousin this weekend has been the biggest relief. She is not the first person to know, but she is the first family member to know. For me, that makes a huge difference.

I don't have an answer to this dilemma, but I can certainly share it.

Dawn said...

Wow, that is me too! You described my feelings perfectly. So much has happened that I can't even imagine getting someone who is out of the loop caught up. That would take an amount of energy that I can't even imagine having right now. As painful as infertility is, I am so grateful to have people like you to go through it with. You always express so eloquently what I try to express in such a blunt, clumsy manner. I know we will get through this, and come out on the other side....grinning. :)

Richard said...


Please tell me that you write for a living. If you don't then you should.

I wish I could have summed it up so well. We're all just so tired of it all.


Anonymous said...

I so enjoy reading your blog. You write beautifully. I know exactly what you mean about being with people who don't get it. Good Luck to you and thanks for keeping the blogsphere full of well-written insight.

Meg said...

What the others said, Bea.

Not sure what else I could say.

Many many virtual hugs.

katty said...

yes. my world has become smaller too. i have become a mystery to other people. they don't understand why i don't seem to be ...doing... much. My family and best friend know, and now I have an excellent circle of ten women who are all trying to concieve whom I met at an infertility group.they have been absolutely invaluable.
the funny thing is that with the people who don't know the not knowing hangs over everything. but with the people who know its done, out and then becomes background.and normal life goes on.

Anonymous said...

Your inner therapist and mine should throw a party.

You said it very well

Powered by Blogger.