I cried myself to sleep last night.


I’m not sure how many times I’ve done that over the last year or so because I’ve lost count, but I think I’m getting quite good at disguising it from Dave. I don’t think he knows, and if he didn’t, he will when he reads this.

I just let the tears fall silently down my face, soaking my pillow. Because I can’t give in to my wracking sobs, as that would draw Dave’s attention, I just let the sorrow seep through my eyes. I ignore the huge and suffocating lump in my throat, and suppress the need to sniff to clear my snotty nose, and just weep. I weep so much that my teeth hurt.

I don’t WANT to do that. I don’t WANT my last thoughts as I fall to sleep to be heartbreaking ones. I don’t WANT to hide from Dave that I’m overcome by my emotions (I only do that because he gets cross that I’m so sad, not in a mean way but a protective way). But I can’t help it. The night times are the worst. There are no distractions from your thoughts.

I want to escape for a couple of days. I was googling just before bed last night isolated cottages by the sea. I want to be on my own, without my phone, without any link to the outside world, and just give in. Give in to all the tears. Give in to all the anguish. Scream as loud as I want without anybody around to hear and investigate. I want to read books and magazines. I want to sleep. I just want to sleep. I’m so tired.

I knew this upcoming week was going to be a shit one. 

This week we have a Mother’s Day service at church. A reminder that I am still not a mother yet.

It is my mum’s birthday on Tuesday. A reminder that I still haven’t made her a grandmother yet.

It is my birthday on Wednesday. A reminder that another year has passed and I am still not a mother yet.

It is the anniversary of our chemical pregnancy on Saturday. A reminder that we could have been parents to a 3 month old by now. But we’re not.

And Sunday is Mother’s Day in the U.K. I don’t know if we’re seeing my mum on that day because we’re all going out to eat on Friday night to celebrate joint birthdays anyway. If we’re not seeing her, then I need to find a way of not wallowing in misery next weekend as an alternative.

I could get drunk. But that won’t help matters. It won’t help my weight loss either, especially as I need to focus hard on eating right with 2, possibly 3, meals out in the next week.

And amongst all this, Dave shows just how amazing he is.

My husband is not a talker. He is a typical caveman. He sulks when he’s upset. He gives me the silent treatment when we (rarely) have an argument. He doesn’t open up to his friends, least of all on Facebook. His Facebook rarely mentions me at all actually. It’s all football and banter.

But on Wednesday, when a pregnancy announcement from one of his mates triggered an ache in both our hearts, he posted this –

Many men won’t openly talk about this subject, but the emotional rollercoaster of trying to become a father and failing is absolutely heartbreaking and demoralising. It’s the only thing I haven’t done in my life so far. One day it will happen, until that day comes, there’s a massive void in mine and my wife’s life. Believe it or not, I do have feelings and having to keep all of the, bottled up and private, putting on a fake smile in front of everyone, whilst they are blissfully unaware of your struggles is just awful. I can’t hide it any longer, this is me, this is my situation at the moment. It sucks. Here’s to a hopeful silver lining of dirty nappies and sleepless nights, because my god this will all be worth it in the end.

Many of his friends liked it or commented. Some reached out to him privately. And another waited a couple of days to contact him and say he was expecting too.

And do you know what Dave did? He swallowed his pain, put a separate post congratulating those who have announced pregnancies, and apologised for not doing so sooner but explained that it hadn’t been a great time recently. He’s a much bigger person than I am.

I haven’t congratulated his mate yet. The one who announced on Wednesday. I will do eventually, when I’m ready. But not yet. 

We also have another of his mates who is expecting his ex to give birth any day this month. Every time I go on Facebook I prepare myself to see his announcement of his daughter’s arrival. I’ll congratulate him too. Eventually.

I would hate it if one of my friends was secretly pregnant and couldn’t tell me for fear of my reaction. I will ALWAYS be happy for them.

But I will always be sad for me too.

17 thoughts on “I cried myself to sleep last night.

  1. I really relate to this post. I’m 36 and have been wanting to start a family for a couple years now. It’s incredibly frustrating, and difficult not to feel jealous, envious, and heartbroken as others around you get pregnant or give birth. Stay strong!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah Hun…so many similarities here to my life..it’s even my mums birthday on Tuesday and my other half is a Dave too and sounds very similar to yours, altho I’m not he’d be able to do such a post. Ive come off fb as I just found it too hard.
    Book a weekend away and indulge yourself xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha! Fancy that! Yes it’s crossed my mind on occasions to delete Facebook but I use it for my blog and staying in touch with TTCers. I could hide all the women from my feed… but it seems I’m not safe from the blokes either! Gah! I’m going to wait till my Easter hols in a couple of weeks and see if I can get a last minute deal somewhere. Hugs to you xxx


  3. Oh…. I feel so sad after reading you post, but… it reminds me about my mum! I came to this world 13 years after they married. My mum always believed she will be a mum (she is a nursery teacher, in love with children like crazy), but it wasn’t happenning. My dad and the rest of the family lost hope… My mum was trying different therapies, different doctors- nothing worked. When her mum (my grandma) fell seriously ill, my mum took a small break from her job (1-2 months break), went to her, then came home, but still her mind was completely on her mum. She didn’t think about anything else- no job stress, no pregnancy stress, she didn’t care about it. And… she got pregnant!!!! She got pregnant previously 2-3 times, but had a very early miscarriage (around 2-3 weeks). This time, it all went well and I was born 🙂 She was 36 🙂
    Don’t lose hope- you will be a mum :* Try different therapies, methods… but don’t think about it everyday, all the time. Go with your husband on holidays! It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. She don’t think about getting pregnant all the time. It kills.
    You will be a mum, I’m sure about it :*

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I just want to come over there and give you a big hug. I’m sorry you’re feeling so down. It’s awful that people in our situation have to feel bad about every pregnancy announcement and every new baby when it should be something to celebrate. And Mother’s Day coming up doesn’t help either. I have to put up with it TWICE – UK mother’s day next weekend (cue alllll the FB posts about how I’ll never know how incomplete my life is until I have a baby) and then again in May when it’s mother’s day in Switzerland Germany.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This blog post really resonated with me. So many nights I cried myself to sleep laying on my side (back to my husband) so he would not hear me. I don’t know why I could never roll the opposite way and lean into him for support vs. leaning away but I think it’s just that sometimes I felt like the burden was even heavier at times for me then it was for him and although he was going through it too-there were parts he will never fully understand. I think that although the struggle is so real for both men and women-I sometimes felt like we (as women) feel it so much deeper because it is our bodies and there truly is no escape from all of the triggers. OH and those triggers are EVERYWHERE. I considered my lack of support to family/friends who were expecting as self care. I needed to take a step back for myself and it took me a long time to realize that it is ok to do-that those who truly care will respect my decision to do so and understand. It’s not an easy road to be on and you need to be gentle to yourself when you can. We ended up going through IVF to have our 2nd daughter after a battle with secondary infertility and now that she’s here and knowing my heart isn’t done having babies-a lot of these feelings are starting to resurface and scare me. I don’t know if I’m prepared to go through this all again but I also can’t control how I feel. The heart wants what it wants and there is just know shutting it off. Even though there was light at the end of the tunnel for me-I still feel forever scarred. I will just never be the same person I was.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I really relate to your post, Im trying to do a post about TTC and its so hard to write the words out! yours is lovely to read! me and my partner have been TTC for 15 months now and its tougher than I thought! even going to boots to get fake tan you have to walk past all the baby bits and it makes me well up! 😦 i think there should be more support for both partners when trying for a baby! xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Absolutely! If only blokes would talk more openly online about it like we do through blogs and Facebook groups and Instagram pages then they would receive support like we do from our TTC sisters x


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