i'm putting everything on hold.
i was working towards an Open University degree. but now i'm not. what if i get pregnant, and have morning sickness and can't work? what if i get pregnant and can't meet my deadlines?
(or what if i lose another baby? i sure as hell wouldn't be able to work then)
and we're not moving house any more. our mortgage is really small at the mo. if we moved it would go up quite a lot. how would we pay it if i was off on maternity leave?
(or how would we pay it if i lost another baby, and i went onto half pay because i've had too much sick leave? how would we cope?)
i'm not running, even though the urge is starting to come back. because i won't run while pregnant, and what's the point in starting if i can't carry on?
and i'm sure as hell not progressing my fledgling career in writing.
(i can't remember if i mentioned it here, but i got a story accepted for publication a few months back. (it hasn't been published yet - i will mention when it does.) but you know what? i don't care. i should be excited! i should be pleased that i've been paid for something it's really hard to get paid for. i should be thrilled that my hard work has been recognised. but you know what? i don't give a shit.)
i'm not pregnant.
i don't know if i ever will be.
it could be this month.
it could be the end of next year.
it could be the twelfth of never.
how long do i keep waiting? how long do i refuse to start anything new?
today i spotted on someone's facebook wall that one of her friends had a miscarriage at 5 months.
i sent her a message, linking her here and to glow in the woods.
i don't know if that was the right thing to do. but she sounded devastated.
(she sounded like me a few months ago.)
i don't care if she thought i was odd.
i just hope she's OK.
(i'm trying to ignore the change in prime minister. i have enough problems without the frickin' tories getting into power. i still can't believe it's come to this)