Three pieces of advice

It’s much harder to write this blog now I’m back at work – plus the anti-depressants seem to make me a bit sleepy after 6.00p.m, so I’m never in the mood to switch on the computer once back at home. So, I’m writing this on my lunchbreak ready to upload this evening (blogs are sensibly blocked by our Websense filter at work).

This morning I had another appointment with the kindly GP. He’s got an obvious interest in psychology and is keen to ensure that I don’t feel guilty or inadequate for needing help. He’s very understanding and we’ve agreed that I’ll finish off the month’s pills and see how I feel – whether I want to carry on or not. He also gave me three pieces of advice, like a fairy godmother for the depressed:

People aren’t telepathic; tell them how you feel, even if they won’t like it. It’s not my responsibility to regulate other people’s feelings.Let friends and family know that you just need to talk, you’re not expecting them to fix or cure!Put a time limit on how long you talk about your feelings, so you and the listener don’t get exhausted.
The first of these I found interesting. It’s true that I have sat through many, many incredibly painful baby conversations and smiled simply because I don’t want to make the other person feel they can’t be happy around me. But why do I insist on sublimating my own happiness to theirs?

A colleague of mine who recently gave birth was absolutely aware of my struggle to get pregnant and how upset it made me, and yet she carried on blithely giving me daily updates of her pregnancy, from ‘Oh, I’m definitely in a bone-making phase, I can’t stop eating dairy’ to ‘You won’t believe how much closer this has brought me and Simon – you can’t know until you get pregnant’. I’ve sat through details of birth plans, pram shopping, and name choices. I’ve made appropriate noises about scans, and listened to the whys and wherefores of not wanting to know the sex of the baby before the birth. I’ve listened while other colleagues come over and chat for 20 minutes about how wonderful their lives have become since having children and all the cute things that the little buggers do. No more!

I’m also feeling really bad about the thought of handing in my notice. I’ve got a new job - a great job - lots more money and responsibility, and instead of being excited I’m feeling guilty about leaving my colleagues in the lurch at a time when so many are out on maternity leave, and another is about to leave to look after her children full time! I realised this morning that rule no 1 above has applications beyond coping with subfertility. I care too much about what other people think and how they feel. I am so desperate to avoid making others unhappy or stressed out, that I reflect it back onto myself instead. I don’t need to resign for another few days, but I’ve decided that when I do, I must try to feel strong about doing something great for myself.