Have you ever felt like you keep hitting a wall no matter what you do? That’s pretty much what’s been happening to me. While after the disappointment of the BFN, I decided to get my life back to normal as much as I can, I feel boxed in. Whatever I decide to do seems pointless and… so very lonely. I am not used to being on my own, and even after more than a year, I hate it. I am an odd number, and no matter how much people try to assimilate me, I feel that very keenly. They don’t perhaps… but I do. And most of the times that makes me very angry.
When we were married, I sometimes thought of the stuff we were missing out on – things that single people do. It turns out it’s not such great stuff anyways. Or perhaps, I don’t find it so because I am still married to Gaurav. He may not be here in person, but I’ve never felt him gone. Even now I see him cocking that eyebrow at me, or laughing that loud laugh of him, he still strolls up to me when I am least expecting him. He’s there in shops buying stuff, or at clubs signaling the server. He sits besides me when I drive to work. So you see, I am still married, just that it’s only me in it now.
I keep thinking of doing things, of learning to live this new single life of mine. But there are invisible walls all around. I start in one direction and a few steps later is this invisible barrier pushing me back, till I am just me, alone, disconnected and isolated even in a crowd.
I think of the road that still lies ahead, of the few embryos I have left and some more diagnostics to determine what’ll make this work. I think of the time I have to spend walking it alone. And I wonder how different it would be if he was here. Then I could have rested my head on his shoulder as we sat in waiting rooms, he could have given my hand that reassuring grip before I went in to operating rooms, he would be outside waiting with some chocolate for when I came out. And even after all this if the results were negative, he’d be there to share in the grief and to wipe my tears. Maybe, if he were there, I wouldn’t cry at all; because i’d know that even if this one time didn’t work we’d have many many chances. And if he were here, maybe I wouldn’t need this baby so much.
Sometimes I think one more in my long list of selfish reasons to want this baby is so that I could talk to him/her about Gaurav. I want to talk about him, but I have no one to talk to. People usually get uncomfortable if I mention him, or leave it at the sentence or 2 of contextual episodes. Even his mom doesn’t want to talk about him, because it hurts her to do so. That’s her way of dealing with her grief. But I want to spend hours talking about him. Not doing so feels like forgetting he ever existed and walked this Earth next to all of us. And who better to talk about him with than his child?
I’m leaving for Mumbai in a few days for an endometrial biopsy to check the receptivity of the lining. So the actual embryo transfer will be sometime in November/ December. I’ve decided to stop obsessing about it, and just do the regular things – walk Hash, go to office, focus on the trust I started in his name, and meet people – often. And I want to go for a trip somewhere, get away for a while, try and get out of the box. Any suggestions?