Here in Aotearoa, we’re in Lockdown. Everyone is isolating at home, except those who work for essential services (places that look after our basic needs). We’re expected to stay close to home, and only leave the house to go to the supermarket, medical appointments and for some local exercise. Those that can, work from home. It’s quite crazy, but it’s saving lives, so I’m ok with it.
Anxiety shot up when the lockdown was announced – so many unknowns, so much out of our control, feelings of loss….loss of the life as we knew it.
And yet while I had all these unpleasant feelings, they had a certain familiarity about them. Quite similar, in fact, to going through years of fertility treatment. Which probably explained why I felt so tired so quickly – so many feels to carry, on top of still carrying all the infertility load. Great, a second round of feeling like you’re watching your life fall apart in to many pieces.
I’d been struggling to find things in the future to look forward to as it was, but having the few things that interest you, such as international travel, taken away, had me feeling like the world was closing in on me.
The chance of us trying one last round of fertility treatment, has always been very slim – but there was a tiny ‘maybe’ hanging there…..but when your embryos are on the other side of the world to you, and you’re now trapped on an island…it starts to feel like your world is ending, and that yet another choice is being taken away from you.
Hard not to question the universe/fate/life, whatever you call it – did I piss someone off super badly in a previous lifetime? What is the point of anything?
I don’t begrudge the lockdown. In fact, I’m pretty strict with the rules. It’s what I’m good at….following the rules, and caring for others. It’s the only way I know how to survive.
But sometimes I wish there was a bit more than just surviving to hold on to.