“Why me?” The complicated question that strangely embodies both sadness and happiness.

Having active strategies to help us cope emotionally, communicate better and support each through our infertility would have made a profound difference on our journey.

It would send me into a frenzy of weeping until all the anger, envy, fury, disappointment and bitterness would leave me.

I gulped again. I was terrible at saying no. I was terrible at self-care. I was terrible at setting boundaries. I cared too much about what people thought of me.

“Break?” he scoffed, “You don’t have time for a break! I know you feel exhausted and depleted now, but you’re not going to feel any better in a few months.”

Some days were worse than others and I never told my husband about this because I was terrified that we would stop having sex all together.

In those powerful moments of awe, wonder and mindfulness you find that, in that brief moment, your pain and sadness actually disappears.

“Anyway, I know my life isn’t really that bad,” I stated with a swelling ego, “I know a lot of people that have it so much worse than me.

A roller coaster of emotions would whisk me away, sending me through shock, sorrow and then acceptance……all within a space of 15 minutes.