The New Year

One of the small delights of the past few weeks was reading the three books in the Corduroy Mansions series by Alexander McCall Smith.  I enjoy those books because they are lighthearted and make you believe in the basic decency of humanity.  I don’t know how he does it, but AMC writes realistic, believable characters in his stories.  In the third book in the series, he introduces two minor characters, a childless couple in Surrey who happen to pick up the Pimlico Terrier named Freddie de la Hay one night.  It is the first time I have read a fiction book where the author so perfectly describes what it is to be childless after infertility and disappointments.  When I read it on Monday night, I cried intensely, but I also felt understood.  It was a bittersweet feeling.

There is so much that is so hard for me about handling infertility and disappointments. I don’t know how to relate to other people through this.  I feel this intense desire just to withdraw from the world, because I don’t know how to deal with other people through this. It isn’t anyone else’s fault, but it just makes me sad, because all of my friends have kids. I am happy for them. Their happiness doesn’t cause my sadness, but at the same time, I just feel like such a freak of nature. Being around strangers doesn’t help either. Last night, David and I went to get sushi, and I about hyperventilated, because the three tables around us all had young children.  I hate feeling this way. I don’t know how to feel better because I don’t feel like there is much hope left.

And then I see my poor, hurt dog and feel like such a failure because I couldn’t stop Knightley from getting hurt.  I see how much pain he is in, and it just makes me hurt for him, because I cannot take that pain away either.

This is not the way I hoped I would be starting out 2014.  I am so tired of feeling so helpless.

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