“Oh no!” I’m bawling, “I sat by the fire for five minutes. I just didn’t think.” “You did what? I don’t understand. Calm down and tell me what happened.” “Bwaaaaaaaa, I sat bwa bwa bwa by the fire.” He’s looking at me puzzled. I’m now at a fully blown crying fit. You see, seven days ago, I had my embryo […]
The business of making children is complex. The business of having children is extraordinarily more byzantine. The business of not having children is a different matter altogether. And the business of not (yet) having children, if you’re an endometriosis sufferer, potentially a source of such omnipresent and all-pervasive misery, despair, bitterness, despondency and torment that its essence cannot be expressed in words.
It’s strange how life works out. One day you’re living your life relatively happy, whatever happiness is, the next your doctor is breaking the news that you have a disease that affects your fertility. Now the painful periods make sense, so you feel reassured on some level, but on a different level a new kind of worry also enters your brain. Will endometriosis affect my ability to have children? Will endometriosis affect my fertility? You freak out. You become desperate. All you can focus on is your childlessness, or inability to have more children, or other people having children. You lose your ability to connect with others as you become increasingly single-mindedly focused on that one aspect of your existence.