The Emotional Rollercoaster: June, July, August 2016

Hey angel mammas and papas, I hope you've all had a good week. Mine has been pretty uneventful, there has been a few pregnancy announcements both in instagram world and the real world. I'm super happy for all but I've had to unfollow those on instagram. I wish you all the very best and hope everything goes well for you, I hope to join your club soon. I'm on CD44, with no sign of anything happening pregnancy or period-wise. My last cycle was 47 days long so if I go over that amount I will test but I'm pretty certain we have not conceived this cycle, although my husband and I have been having regular intercourse. I really thought going back onto antidepressants and being in a job I enjoy would help me get my cycles back in some sort of working order but that has not happened. The Doctor has said to me "don't get stressed!", but I honestly don't feel that stressed out, I think the amount of stress I feel because of everything that has happened has become the normal level of stress. I'm annoyed that I am not being given any other sort of advice or medication for my cycles, Clomid has been denied me but I know a colleagues sister who suffered a miscarriage was allowed to go on it now she is expecting her first child, she is much younger than me but my doctor just keeps commenting that I am still young. Yet, I have been though two losses and it took me another year to get to any sort of physical normality, I just think it's unfair. I'm contemplating the idea of having acupuncture to help regulate my cycles and maybe help with my stress levels, I'll let you know how that goes if I decide to go through with it.

In the meantime I'll carry on with my story, it was coming to the end of May 2016 and I was due to go back to work after having sick leave, to say that I was nervous was an understatement. My confidence had hit an all time low, I didn't think I was capable of doing any job well. After all, my most natural job of keeping an unborn baby safe was a complete failure. 

Over the next few months work continued as normal, I was pretty unhappy and was still trying to cope with our loss. My body wasn't healing, my cycles were all over the place ranging from 70-50 days, I was worried about my fertility, I was worried the surgery had damaged me in some way. I went back to the doctors and voiced my concerns. I was offered blood tests throughout my cycle to determine if I was ovulating or not. I also got an appointment for an ultrasound scan to check my uterus was all ok.

The ultrasound all came back normal, that was a huge relief, my ovaries were in good condition so there was no reason why we couldn't get pregnant in terms of a physical point of view. I awaited the blood appointments. Amazingly during this time I got offered an interview in the hospital genetics laboratory! The interview itself went well apart from when I was asked if I would be comfortable potentially dealing with or seeing foetal samples - this is normally performed in a cytogenetic lab (whereas the job I was offered was in molecular genetics) but the two labs shared a corridor hence the risk of seeing sensitive specimens. I was caught by surprise, scenarios rushed through my head, should I tell them what they want to hear? Or should I tell the truth? Or should I tell the uncensored truth? I took a big breath and told the uncensored truth, I told the two interviewers about my miscarriage and that I wouldn't know how I would react if I saw foetal tissue in the lab. I was quick to add that I was coping a lot better now rather than earlier on in the year, which was true - sort of, at least I was functioning now and was able to get up in the morning. But more importantly I didn't want to sound weak in the interview and I didn't want them questioning my lengthy time off if they got to the referee stage. I was desperate to move on from my current job. And I'd always wanted to work in an NHS genetics lab. By the time the interview was over I had no idea if I'd made the right decision to tell the whole truth or not. I just hoped that the interviewers appreciated my honesty and would maybe think I would have more compassion for the job as I had been through tragedy as well.

Weeks passed with no news of the job or my period. I couldn't start the blood tests until I had started a new cycle, it was so frustrating. I did my best to keep my stress levels down via meditation and carrying chakra crystals but it didn't do anything for my hormone levels. I did have two more interviews however, and I was the successful candidate for one, it was for a role in a hospital closer by doing the same sort of job I was doing currently. I accepted the role with relief and awaited the offer in writing. This is where my mood begins to change, I became more positive and confident in myself and thinking back I believe my job at the time had more of an impact on my depressed state than I realised back then. I thought I didn't like the job because I was depressed and going through grief. When really what was happening was the job was making me depressed which in turn caused me to handle the grief badly.

July rolled round, as well as being our first wedding anniversary and my husbands birthday, it should also have been the month we'd see Bean for the first time and held him in our arms. We were never given a proper due date so it was hard to pin down a day to dedicate to him specifically. My counsellor warned that July would be a tough month and she was right, the grief hit me all over again everything we had lost seemed to feel like it had been taken away again. I knew then that I would never be able to box away this pain a felt. I felt changed as a person, I would never be the person I once was. That seems blindingly obvious now, going through a life changing event will change you into someone else but it only dawned on me during that July month last year. I tracked my never-ending cycle and couldn't believe how a tiny being who lived for 6 weeks could have such a lasting effect on my body and hormones.

During mid-August I prepared myself for a triggering day, my nephews third birthday party. I knew a baby would be there who was around 4-6weeks old, the same age as Bean should have been. Even as I awake that day it was first thing that I thought of and I felt a pang of nerves and anxiety, not to mention all the other toddlers who would be there. I was already feeling fragile when I glanced at my phone, a text message was waiting, it was a picture of my nephew with a sign saying he was going to be a big brother. I'm not proud of this but my heart sank, I was barely prepared to see the tiny baby now this news? I went to the bathroom, my period came. I just felt everything was being rubbed in my face on an already difficult day. I wanted to cancel, I wanted to say I had a migraine and couldn't attend the party. I wanted to bury myself away, my mood plummeted. Rob had to physically pick me up out of the bed, I shouted, I screamed for me to leave me alone. This was my grief coming out and I'd been told to accept everything I felt. He didn't let up though, he popped me in the shower, he dressed me while my vacant eyes saw nothing. The darkness was creeping in at the edges again, I sensed it this time though, I recognised it like a rolling mist over my eyes. I don't know what happened at the party, but I was there. Afterwards I crawled back into bed again and growled at Rob to leave me alone. My face ached from crying so hard, I stayed there all afternoon, evening, night and into the next morning. Again Rob eventually got me dressed and dragged me outside to help him wash the car, anything to get me out of the house really. He said he would not let me spiral again, he wouldn't leave me to my own devices, if he had to drag me kicking and screaming he would.

I knew I wasn't well, at least I could recognise that to a certain extent. I had struggled on and off for around 8 months and I needed real help. My blood tests started the following week and I saw a doctor as well. I told them I thought I was depressed and they started me on 50mg sertraline. At the time I was nervous that they wouldn't believe me almost. Like, why would someone realised they are depressed? I wished the doctors could have diagnosed me themselves when I was really low, maybe things could have been different. Either way, I started the tablets and had a blood test each week to monitor my hormones as well as other general molecules and compounds such as glucose and thyroid function.

I was still waiting for my new contract for my new job, nothing in the NHS is fast but this was taking a very long time. I had enquirer a few times but was told the case was with recruitment and that's where things are normally held up. I was eager to hand my notice in and start a fresh chapter. I find if I start doing something proactive such as having blood tests done or starting medication my mood instantly lifts. Even if these things don't come to anything there is a hope, and that's what my mind focuses on. My cycle leading to the blood tests was shorter than my previous one and although it was still out of the healthy normal range it gave me hope that my body was wanting to get back to normal.

Then another surprise hit me, the genetics lab wanted to employ me, I couldn't believe it! I took the job instantly and they sorted everything out really quickly. I felt bad that I had to refuse the other job I was originally offered but genetics really was better for me. I served my notice and prepared to move onto a new chapter in my life.

Thanks for reading everyone. Writing has been a lot easier this weekend, I've had much more of a flow.

Stay strong,

Adele xxx

This past week

Before I begin I'd like to wish a Happy Father's Day to all daddy's of angels, all of your babies too beautiful for this world are looking down on you, you are all amazing fathers. 

This week has been one of my darkest for a long while. I'm now on CD37 with no sign of anything changing, I've had neither fertile cervical fluid or any signs of a period. It's really been getting me down even though this is what I expected after surgery. I was also due to attend a Hen weekend for one of my best friends who happens to be pregnant. I thought I'd be ok with it but on Thursday I was so anxious and crying at work I didn't know what to do. I've felt so broken and damaged, when will my body get better? Am I destined not to have children? 

I texted my friend on the Thursday warning her that I was not in my right mind and I'd either not be able to go or if I did attend I would come home early. She was really understanding but really hoped I would be able to go. I'd already booked the Friday off in order to travel to Leeds for the hen do but wasn't due to travel until the afternoon so I made an appointment for the doctors in the morning. I told her I was sick of being broken and I didn't know what to do. Admittedly I'd started taking my antidepressants every other day as I was experiencing some side effects, she said it would be better to take a half the dosage every days rather than take one every other day so that's what I've started doing. She assured me that side effects are temporary but I'm still waiting for that to happen. She did have the results of mine and my husbands chromosome testing which thankfully were both normal. So it seems that Bean and Passengers deaths were a case of terrible luck. Although we will be at a slightly higher risk of anencephaly as we'd experienced it before it is much lower than if the cytogenetisists had found any chromosomal translocations. I was surprised the results were ready so early as we had been told 8-9weeks so I was expecting the results to be available at the end of July. Although I can see the positives from getting these results and we are capable of producing a healthy baby it doesn't really help my current situation in terms of feeling very low and anxious and most importantly the fact my cycles are non-existent at the moment.

I said this to the doctor and she asked if I was going to counselling. I replied that I'd been seeing a counsellor for over a year and although it was a good thing to talk things through it can also make the pain raw for a lot longer as you're constantly bringing everything up again, making it difficult to heal. I mentioned that I was writing this blog and that it had some therapeutic effect but I didn't know what else I could do. She only said that I was doing everything I can, but she suggested trying to not get so stressed, don't track cycles and periods or look for signs of fertility or infertility, go on holiday somewhere and try to get some sort of normality back to my life. This is a doctor suggesting these things to me. I have been grieving for two babies for 18 months, this is normal for me now. This is my life. It's impossible for me not to track cycles anymore, I don't deliberately look for signs, I just see them when they're there! So in short she did nothing for me and I came out in tears, I already knew they wouldn't do anything for me as that's what had happened before but it still hurt. 

I got home and wondered if I was well enough to attend the hen party, every time I thought of a group of girls together for a weekend it made me feel sick. I felt terrible but I couldn't put myself through that. I told the bride to be that I was unable to go. I just wanted to be with Rob this weekend, I needed some stability.

I hope she had a fabulous time, I know if I had been there I would have brought everyone else down. It's just too hard for me to see pregnant ladies right now, no matter how close they are to me. I'm anxious about next month when my pregnant sister in law comes home from Australia. I just hope my mind is in a better place by then.

It's pretty ironic how last week I was remembering another hen do and how it had helped me see the world again when this week I've been crippled at the thought of going to another one. 

My head is still all over the place right now so the thought of delving back into the past tells me I'm not strong enough. Sorry guys, I hope next week I'll be back with you all.

Stay strong,

Adele

Sick Leave

Hey everyone, I hope your week has been a good one and you have celebrated World Gin day yesterday! Along with stripping wallpaper I've mostly been watching the new series of House of Cards, oh my god, what a series! I'm addicted! On a ttc related note, I'm currently on CD30 and pretty convinced I've failed to ovulate this month. I'm thinking of trying out ovulation tests again although they weren't very reliable when I used them the first time round. we have also seen Bean's apple tree starting to fruit! We are delighted and surprised that a tree so young would bear so much fruit, we will see in the next few months how many mature.

I finished my last post with me crying on the toilet floor at work, it was one of the lowest points since Bean died. The next day I rang in sick to work and tried to get a doctors appointment but there were none available. I didn't know where to turn. Robs youngest sister took me to a walk in clinic to see if they could write me a doctors note but they didn't have the authorisation. I felt completely let down, I was numb, my world was black and I was just led from place to place for someone to listen to me. The day after I managed to get an appointment with a doctor. I don't remember what I said or what she said but I was given a doctors note for 2 weeks sick leave. It was the first time I had discussed what had happened to a doctor since having surgery 3 months before. I'd had no follow up appointment for physical or mental health I was just left to cope and get on with things myself. 

I sent off the sick note and got home, there I was consumed by my grief, I couldn't crawl out of the hole I'd found myself in, I wallowed in self pity. I missed Bean, I missed being pregnant, I missed the future I had dreamed of. All of it had been scrubbed out and I didn't know why. I knew I should have been doing something with the house, wallpaper stripping or gardening, something like that but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Hannah kept telling me to do things that made me happy, self-loving; but how could I do that when I repulsed myself? I hated myself, I hated my insides for not being good enough for Bean to survive and hated them even more for not going back to how they were in terms of cycles and periods and hormones. My body was a dead zone as far as I was concerned, neither pregnant or fertile. It was merely a shell I wanted to break free from but didn't have the energy to do so.

Hannah was with me almost everyday of those two weeks, I don't even know what we did I was in such a different world, I just coasted along. When we weren't together I drowned my mind with Netflix (House of Cards actually) and reading. I ate too much and didn't exercise which contributed to my self loathing even more. 

Towards the end of the two weeks I saw another doctor, I felt awful there was no way I was well enough to go back to work. Two weeks had done nothing as I knew it would. Why would they think two weeks off would heal the trauma, pain and heartbreak I'd been through? Had they been through this type of loss? Did they understand at all?

I was advised to take another 4 weeks sick leave. I started looking into spiritual ways of letting go of grief and getting a normal cycle back. I restarted meditation, particularly chakra meditation and using crystals. I tried getting back into yoga during this time but I didn't stick with it long, I think I had taken on a bit too much all in one go. But I did try grief meditation; a guided meditation where you are with your loved one and remembering them. I found that really nice even though I cried the whole time, Bean was at peace and he wanted me to be too. He didn't want me to be sad or hurt and I keep that thought with me now whenever I do feel down. I started trying to write down 3 things I had achieved that day while I was off. Most of the time it would involve exercise of some sort or logging a meditation session, other times I couldn't think of three things and I felt extremely low. My confidence was at rock bottom, not just because of the grief but because of the job I had found myself in, I was grossly over qualified but I felt that I wasn't even good enough for that. I started applying for other very low paid jobs but closer to home, thinking back it shows I was thinking in a slightly wider circle at this point if I was thinking of and applying to jobs, even if they were not suitable for my skill set. I also started one of those relaxation colouring books and dedicated it to Bean which took me out of my own mind at least for a little while. 

My mum and dad took me to York while I was off which was a great chance for a change of scenery, it was nice to get away from everything that reminded me of my loss. I associated our new home with Bean's death, in fact I associated the whole new town we lived in with Bean. I hated it all. I actually didn't want to live there and Rob and I had briefly discussed selling up within the first three months of moving in. To this day I still don't feel settled here, I say it's home but I can't say if it ever will be. The fact is that our lives have never been so traumatic since we moved here.

A week or so before the 4 weeks sick leave ended I was due to attend a Hen Do in Nottingham. I really didn't want to go to be honest, I felt I would bring everyone down. I didn't want to answer questions like "when are you going to try for a baby?" After going through loss I don't ask those types of questions anymore because you have no idea what the couple have been through or are currently going through. I know no one would purposefully ask me in order to cause upset but a lot of the time people don't know how much others are affected by the things they say. 

After some persuasion I packed my bags ready to go. It was hard being around a big group, never mind a group I didn't know. I think I only knew one girl besides the Bride-to-be but I tried to play that to my advantage. I planned to listen and not talk much, then I'd just come across as a quiet girl rather than if I'd known all the people and acted in that way everyone would know something was up as I was normally an outgoing bubbly person. I played the shy girl as best I could, I sat in the background and listened to the others and the weekend turned out much better than I expected and by the end of the weekend something amazing happened. 

We were walking back to the train station and I remember seeing the buildings around me. I didn't just look at the buildings but I SAW them. I didn't look at the ground oblivious to everything around me, I started turning my head, I saw the streets, I saw the cross roads, I even saw the sky. Slowly the dark curtain veiling my eyes was being pulled back just a tiny bit. It was incredible. The pinprick I was seeing life through had opened slightly. And it didn't only allow me to see but it allowed me to feel again. I consciously gripped my mini suitcase and felt the handle. I cautiously held out my other hand and ran it along the brick of a building as I lagged behind the rest of the group. I felt the breeze and lifted my face towards the spring sun. It sounds crazy but it was like I was experiencing these things for the first time. It dawned on me how long I had been ill for and how much I desperately wanted to be better. I had a new hope, I knew then that I had turned a corner on my road through grief to acceptance. 

That's it for today, a little shorter than usual but I wanted to end on a positive note. I will never forget walking through Nottingham that day, it blew my mind to see the world again. I hope this can give others hope and show that things won't be terrible forever.

Stay strong,

Adele xxx

Darkness Descends

Hi everybody, I hope this post finds you well! My week has been long and tiring, work has been stressful and full on due to understaffing and a mountain of work to get through! Been rushing around like a blue-arsed fly! I've managed to start running again properly this week which I think has helped my low moments in my mood as I have been feeling a bit up and down. I'm on CD23 and still haven't seen any ewcm although I have seen some changes in my cf I'm not convinced anything significant is happening so I'm pretty frustrated and anxious. I've been on sertraline 50mg for around 3 weeks now so the drug will be truly in my system, I think it is taking the edge off most days but now I'm unable to reach climax! Apparently it's a fairly common side effect but that doesn't take away the frustration!

For the last couple of weeks I've been posting Rob's point of view on the loss of our Little Bean, I hope it has given an insight on how the father has to deal with more than the mother in some respects as he loses a child and has to care for the grieving mother. In this post I'll go back to my point of view again, I had just gone through surgery to remove Bean's gestational sac and was about to start my new job in Cambridge the following Monday.

I did think should I start a new job after going through so much trauma but I really didn't want my new employer to think badly of me instantly by delaying my start date. I had recovered from surgery very well in the weekend afterwards and I was keen to start a fresh and put the horrible-ness behind me. The role was based in a hospital within the Histology department, from my understanding I would be collecting fresh organs from theatre and dissecting them to be stored in the Tissue Bank primary collaborated for research purposes. In reality I couldn't be further from the truth, it's true I was to collect fresh specimens from theatre but the rest of the job role was quite a shock to me. I was a glorified cleaner, cleaning the blood and gore from the safety cabinets in the laboratory where cut up took place. I did stock takes of the lab equipment, I scanned and copied documents, i couriered bloods from one part of the hospital to the other. Don't get me wrong, all of these roles help keep a lab ticking over but I was shocked at the relatively slow pace and how the restricted the job was. After working in a very busy lab for five years previously as a lab technician cleaning up blood and guts was a big step in the wrong direction. This was reflected in my pay packet as well, I'd lost 10k per annum. I know some of you might think well how come you didn't know that job role before you started? How come you didn't realise after seeing what salary you were being offered? And yes I agree I should have realised, I did expect a different job, less responsibility to what I was used to but not so little as that, I was amazed and within a few weeks I knew it wasn't the job for me. I was grossly overqualified and I had taken it to ensure pay would be coming in when we moved house. 

My mental health dwindled sharply, I had moved away from my support network in my previous job which was extremely important to me, I was in a new neighbourhood that I didn't know, in a house I didn't really have any attachment to and that needed a lot of work doing to it and was in a job I detested which I found demeaning and boring. I think anyone in my position not even taking into account a miscarriage would have felt similar. I became very depressed throughout the month of January, I felt my soul had died, I wasn't me anymore. I was only a shell of a person with dead eyes merely surviving the days. I often wept on my way into work and during work hours. Our days were long with long breaks so it was hard not to get absorbed into my own thoughts and only think of Bean and what I had lost. I read book after book in the Histology tea room to escape my own sad existence, no one knew anything of my struggles or the loss I had suffered until one day I couldn't take it anymore, I was so upset one morning I couldn't contain it. I confessed to my managers what I had been through tears streaming down my face. They were very supportive and let me have some time to gather myself, it was a great relief to me to get it out in the open. My managers suggested ringing the Care First advice number which I think is specifically for NHS staff to seek advice on anything really, financial, housing, family, dealing with loss etc. I rang straight away and told my story, choking up throughout, the lady however wasn't what I expected, although she was sympathetic to my situation she denied me counselling for my loss. She declared my feelings were all grief related and there was nothing she could offer me. I put the phone down feeling disappointed and let down, I was obviously crying out for help and I was refused. She may have been right, maybe at that point it was grief flowing through my veins and not depression but I still don't understand how I couldn't be helped through my grief. If I had been offered help at that time maybe I wouldn't have spiralled into depression like I did.

I hadn't been myself for over 2 months and my feelings of isolation, grief and darkness suffocated me. I can only describe my depression as looking through a pin prick at the world, everything in my vision apart from that pin prick of life was completely black. I could physically feel the darkness envelop me, I was exhausted by it all, I was almost at rock bottom. My cycles were nonexistent I was still waiting for my first period after surgery 8weeks on, I had abandoned any sort of intimacy with my husband, sex terrified me. Sex lead to babies, babies lead to loss, loss lead to darkness. I was losing confidence and respect in myself, I stopped looking after myself as I should have done, I just could not function. I had nothing of Bean's and I desperately needed to hold him in some way, Rob got in touch with Warwick early pregnancy unit where we had our first scan and asked if they could post the picture over to us. They were happy to do so which was lovely and I was able to hold my little Bean and look at him again. 

I few weeks on and I was looking through all of the information we were given on miscarriage still very much in my dark world when I noticed a small pamphlet advertising Petals, a charity set up in Cambridgeshire specifically to help parents who have suffered miscarriage, still birth or infant death. I resolved to take a step in the right direction and emailed them explaining what had happened to us and asked if for an appointment. I was assigned to Jaqui, a wonderful lady to listened and helped me make sense of what had happened to me. As well as listening she also asked me certain questions to figure out what stage of grief I was at or whether I had slipped into depression. Although this was by no means a diagnostic tool she did find that I could be classed as clinically depressed by the events of the last few months and that I had experienced trauma. She gave me the strength to start thinking about a funeral for Bean, I had been wanting to do something to honour him but wasn't sure what or whether I could handle it. 

At the end of February we let off a balloon in Bean's memory with notes attached. It was absolutely heartbreaking, for me it was the equivalent for going into surgery all over again, we were letting him go. To me it almost felt cruel, I felt guilty for letting him go, I felt like a bad mum. But I know we had to do it, it gave us some closure and we saw Bean float towards the coast on his little balloon holding onto our notes of love.

March into April were very much the same as the start of the year, I continued to go down hill in terms of confidence, self worth and mental health. Everything around me was veiled in black, my soul had never returned to me I didn't even know who I was anymore really. My period arrived after over 70 days after surgery, I was both dreading and anxious for it to come, when it finally came the loss became so real all over again. As I'd been spiralling into depression I'd become pretty numb to everything around me and experienced constant pain (I know that sounds contradictory, I mean that the pain was so constant that I was just used to feeling that way and therefore felt numb), so after getting my period it became a spike of pain that I experienced. A stark reminder I was no longer pregnant, Bean was dead, I would never see his face or hear his cry. I tried to see the positive and I think I did a little bit, I was glad in some ways to finally have a period because 70 days was so abnormal and alarming but it only lasted two days and was extremely light. Having a period did not mean we were going to try again though, far from it, there was absolutely no way I was going to try to become pregnant again any time soon. We used condoms from that moment but again we were very naive, expecting to fall pregnant straight away was pure foolishness, not only were my cycles going to carry on being very irregular in the future but we simply weren't having sex enough to even have a chance of becoming pregnant. 

April rolled on and I was so sad all of the time I don't know how I carried on. I don't know how Rob coped with me, I just wasn't there, I wasn't in my right mind. I tried to meditate and was starting to use chakra crystals during meditation but I was so consumed it was near impossible for me to clear my mind. I couldn't sleep and when I did drop off I'd wake up throughout the night and early before my alarm went off for work. I became anxious particularly on Sunday evenings knowing that work would start again the next day. At work I saw things inappropriate for someone of my position, I saw containers with bloody fluid labelled products of conception. I saw small cardboard boxes containing foetuses, luckily I didn't look inside. Obviously I saw Bean in all of these situations and I was heartbroken at seeing so many, my morbid curiosity betrayed my grieving mind and I read the paperwork relating to the cardboard coffins - missed miscarriage of twins was one that sticks in my mind. I cried in the specimen room when I read that and scolded myself for reading it in the first place. I knew I would be upset by what I read but I did it anyway. I'm not sure why I did it, I think it was another way of punishing myself and hurting myself. 

Then it happened, I hit rock bottom. Towards the end of April 2016 I sat on the floor of the toilets at work my knees tightly curled up into my chest making myself as small as possible. I cried hard into my knees, everything around me was a dark blur through my tears, I clawed at my knees causing my fingers to turn white with the pressure, I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I threw my head back and smacked it onto the wall behind me and I moaned as a wept. I buried my face into my knees and choked out sobs while pulling at my hair. I wanted to scream my lungs out I wanted to run away as fast as I could and hide away at the same time. I've never felt so awful as I did in that moment I thought that would be my life from then on. When I had no more tears to give I tried to calm my breathing, it was ragged and the sobs kept catching the breath. I emailed Jacqui and told her where I was and what I was doing, she emailed back straight away and said to consider seeing a doctor. I was scared and relieved, relived to hear that I wasn't well from someone else and thinking that I wasn't unjustified. Scared because I'd never been through this before, what would happen now?

Thank you for reading, I hope this explains my feelings well for you to either understand or relate.

Stay strong,

Adele xxx