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