How?

I've been going a bit crazy.

In my mind.

Too much thinking.

We've had some bad news. About Craig's health. Unexpected news. Upsetting news. Health issues which will not go away or get better.

The car has needed more work done. Expensive work.

I still haven't heard from my uncles, except when they rang to say their neighbours were complaining about our car. This is the third (or fourth) time their neighbours have complained about our car, so we'll be parking our car elsewhere from now on.

I still want a child.

But I don't know how to get one.

We could get pregnant with another child, our fourth. But I'm just plain scared another child of ours would die. There's no reason it would, but there's no reason it wouldn't.

We could adopt. But I truly don't believe that we will ever be approved for adoption.

We could use a donor embryo, or take our chances with donor sperm or a donor egg. But Craig fears babies.

Yet, I still desperately want to parent a living child.

So, how?

Will I really spend the rest of my life missing my children? Regretting many, many things? And yearning for a living child?

What an absolutely miserable existence that will be. For me. For Craig.

But all I'm doing at the moment is existing. From day to day. And it's awful. It really is. I have no joy in my life. I have no hope in my life. I see no future. It seems pretty pointless really.

Except. Except, I have Craig. But when I tell him that I am sad, or that I have no hope, or that I see no future, he says that I am enough for him, and therefore he should be enough for me.

How do I explain? How can I say that it's not about him not being enough, that it's about this great big gaping hole in my life where there should be a child? How? Because he does not understand. I've tried to explain, but he does not get it.

And everyone around us, they're just getting on with their lives. They and their children and their grandchildren, they're just getting on with it. And I hate it. I hate it that they all have what I should have. What I had. What I want.

And other people have their babies. And their pregnancies. And their healthy newborns. And I can't stand it. And I'm supposed to be happy for them. But how can I be? How? When I'm so absolutely miserable myself?

I had a meeting with a doctor last week. One of the doctors who will decide whether I'm eligible for a pension. He asked if I took painkillers. And how often I took them. And whether they helped. What an idiot. And these are the people who make decisions which will irrevocably affect my life.

F*ck. My life sucks. No other way to say it.